I’ve chosen not to wear
my grief and despair
like shards of broken glass
or snapped razor blades
on my less-than-me person
I’ve chosen not to hurt others
although my pain has
an enormous capacity for
imagination or
is that fantasist?
Dissociation, dissonance, disappointment –
I can use it to carve my poor heart a poorer shape
Should I?
I’ve chosen not to
This pain would hurt less
but I don’t need for others to feel
I would rather shelter and protect
Keep safe and trapped those imaginary
demons –
who will come to hover like eye-poking
vultures in their scruffiness
as I lie here
in the night
Keeping that evil, seeping, energy-sucking
succubus of hurt from me
Arms length – keeping strength
and land stretches towards me
the sand and sea – it pulls away
living is movement, not breathing
and earth ties me to a life of dirt
Sunshine and lollipops –
a distraction
merely a time-waster
ball-breaker, man-hater, life-taker
I’ve chosen not to…

© Kait King, 2015