It gets murky…

Jay in suit

It’s not that I’ve forgotten you, sweet angel of mine, it’s that I just lost myself for a little while. You’ve been there so strong and true. Your arms swallow me safely and I’m grateful, so grateful for you. I couldn’t even see your pain because I couldn’t see through mine – the deep dark cloud of despair. I know it’s not forever, but at the moment, a day is a lifetime

For Jay, my nine year old son (at the time) who had to live with me being there, but not there, for nearly five years. I remember just about nothing of that period of time due to the heavy medication I was on. In the photo above he’s twenty 🙂

Carrying Souls

Collecting souls

I had to do six months of research on suicide once.  I’m not going to get into statistical mumbo-jumbo in this piece, this is about my experience during this time and what I felt and understood from that experience.

Sitting at my desk for at least eight hours a day, reading about how people had chosen to end this lifetime, was alright for the first 2 or 3 weeks, I think.  I looked at it as a job and that I needed to provide the most comprehensive, yet detailed report on what was happening to our community in our district.  I wanted to find answers and resolutions.  I wanted to give it my very best for those who had left and for those who had been left behind.

Now part of being able to do this type of work is being able to distance yourself, compartmentalize and focus on giving your full attention to the job at hand. That job was to look at the past 5 years of coroners’ reports on suicide.  This ranged from a ten year old hanging themselves from a washing line, to a couple in their 80’s who decided to leave together.  Naturally, the older the individual and especially there being two of them, that was almost comforting, darkly romantic, but that was as good as it gets.  The child and everyone in between were just tragically sad and seemingly so unnecessary.  The information in the reports contained everything and I gathered something like 900 suicides and the individual information on a spreadsheet I designed.

It was a very in depth piece of work and very tolling.  After those first few weeks, I found I was taking some of these individuals I had been digging around in, with me.  Back home with me.  It started with me feeling like someone was looking over my shoulder while I was working.  No one was, but it became very awkward.  It wasn’t a comfortable feeling.  This went on for weeks.  I felt like someone was not happy with me digging around in their past.  Some people had been from a criminal background, a few had been child molesters, they had been related to their victims.  Not nice people but I was not doing this to judge, I wanted information to help. Many had just been overwhelmed with financial stress, a too demanding life, a hopeless situation.

Then one day, after spending my working day feeling like I had a bunch of suicide victims hanging around me, that feeling then started following me.  I had a little two door car.  As I drove home, I felt the car become more and more crowded.  I turned the music up, opened windows.  Nothing changed.  I couldn’t wait to get home and get out of the car. Pulling up into the driveway I saw my flatmate outside mowing the lawn.  I got out and felt better, we chatted and I went inside.  I felt a little better when I was around others but I didn’t want to tell anyone what was going on. When I climbed into bed that night I asked those lost spirits to leave me alone.  I had thought about it and figured that these people’s spirits may be trapped here for some reason.  I didn’t know why and I didn’t understand how I knew this was the case, I just knew.

I felt that being so personally involved in each individuals’ death had brought these spirits close to me, not all of them – but somehow these guys had become trapped or lost on an earthly plane. I made a decision to do something crazy – or what may be thought of as crazy by others.  I was at home alone one weekend and I could feel the heaviness of these souls around me. Something compelled me to go outside and look up at the sky.  It was a cloudy, drizzly day with a bit of gusty wind.  The trees rustled around us and I felt the need to speak out loud to these souls.  I said to them that I understood that not all of them had done the right thing here on earth and had left so much heart break and devastation behind.  But there was a light they needed to find over there.  I said I forgive you – I didn’t know who or how many there were but I told them they were all forgiven for everything and needed to go towards the light.  I kept repeating this, looking up at the iron grey sky.  Then all of a sudden I felt a sudden lightness.  The sky didn’t open up, no lightning, torrential rain or blasting wind – they just seemed to move away from me.

I kept using this solution to help those souls move forward each time I felt someone around me.  I had to wait to get home so that I could be alone and in the quiet – oh and keep it a secret, until now…

A Survivor

What I Didn’t Do…

I woke up early one morning, as per usual. I have a weird sleep pattern due to medication and pain so it was about 4 am. Turned on the TV, said hello to my little bunnies, Miss Hunny Bunny Bumps and Wally and made a cup of tea to take back to bed. I watched Amy Schumer and something else…I think Murder made me Famous – I can’t exactly remember but I was in a cheerful place and not exactly engrossed in what I was watching at the time. So typically I picked up my laptop and started opening up the usuals; Google – email, WordPress etc.

I’ve been on WordPress for two years in March 2017. I am pleased to say I have only ever had one other situation similar to this and that was when I first began, but on the whole, I have met beautiful people who all have things/demons/relationships/life/death/guilt etc to deal with – just like everybody else.

Yet this morning someone unpleasant had visited about 5 or 6 poems and written some nasty shit on them – just negative, angry, hateful. Now I don’t tolerate hate and I certainly don’t want my blog that I write with truth and heart to be connected to that hate, so I had to block this person. Before I did that, I went to go and see their blog to find out what kind of person they were before I did cut them off. The blog I visited was full of negativity and darkness, degrading, nasty stuff. “I don’t give a fuck about anybody and Fuck you all” were the repetitive take-away messages of the day, every day. I read one of the pieces written all the way through, by force, as it was painfully boring, poor grammar and spelling – but most of all, just not what anyone wants to hear! But I afforded the blogger the return bother and time in reading it, as they had bothered to read and comment, although negatively, on mine.

The post was telling people basically to keep their nose out of other peoples business (this had also been said on one of my poems as well as it was bullshit and I was fake), anyway, this is what they were spouting about on their own blog. Keep out of my shit and don’t fuck with me! were also threats I received on my own poems…weird – I thought they were my writings and thoughts/experiences anyway! So I wrote a comment on the bottom of the post and said it was wise to take one’s own advice and that I was sorry they were so pissed at the world. The End. I did not get angry or upset or take these foolish words to heart. I did not respond with hate or vengeance or retaliation. I did not bite – they went away….there’s something in that….

Kait King 2017

Pick me

Please don’t pick me
not again
I’m terrified
so frightened I can’t
breathe
It hurts and I can’t
see
through the tears

I don’t know
I’m crying
Universe,
Please stop me
now
before it’s too late
and time
steals you away
from me
too brief
too painful
this I can’t do
Please,
Please Universe
don’t pick me

© Kait King, 2015

Kupapa

Infiltrators

Instigators

Agitators

All are Traitors

Undercover

Lieing brother

Two-faced

Sister and a

Sneaky listener

A massive

Betrayal

Our Leader

Has

Failed

And the

Tribe all

Stood strong

Knowing the truth

All along

At times

The violence

In the deafening

Silence

A 3 am raid

That was

Planned

But that’s

No problem

For our humble

Tribe

And that’s why

We stand strong

At the

Freehive

Kait King 28th February 2022

Ricky (Ramirez) – The Night Stalker

Crimes so heinous
have made you famous
While your victims lie
deep in the dirt
Your name is remembered
with murder it is tempered
Those left behind in a life
drowned with hurt
Your face is well known
a killer repeatedly shown
The victims in photographs
quietly inert

Kait King 2017

My Superpowers: I’m the Invisible Guest

There’s an empty

bottle on the table

A lonely shoe

left on the floor

A dress flung on

the back of a chair

A damp towel hangs

on the door

There’s a shadow

in my bed and

I guess that must be me

I am the Invisible Guest

in my house

as far as I can see

I float over to my bed

to see the shadow

tucked in deep

You would never

think I was dead

I look like I’m asleep

No one knows

I’ve gone yet

No one knows

I’ve left

I’m sad to leave

my family

crying and bereft

But there’s a light

shining for me

I’m ready to walk

in to

if there’s everything

I’ve forgotten,

I’ll remember

I loved you.

Kait King ♥️

14th September 2019

1. Don’t Ever Assume That….

just because 1chocolate

1. Just because he remembers that you like the mint centered chocolates from a box of Roses because of the tantrum you threw when he attempted to eat one the first time but not the only time since you ate chocolates together 7 months ago, doesn’t make him a mind reader…

I don’t know why…

I don’t know why we don’t talk about suicide more, well actually I do. Eventhough history has shown us that the more we talk about something, the more we are educated and made aware of that anomaly and how to handle or cope with it.

As with sexuality and religion, we have gained so much because people stopped being afraid to talk. Certain things are no longer taboo or floating amongst the unmentionables.

Talking about suicide is not easy but it is necessary in order for us to gain knowledge and understanding. Suicide needs to be brought into focus and addressed, not hidden, shamed and blamed.

Suicide has such a giant stigma attached to it, in fact, several. One being the feeling of failure and hopelessness as a parent or someone who was close to the person. The feeling that you failed them completely. Your job was to protect your kid, know everything about your friend, keep them safe…we didn’t do that , we failed. We weren’t enough for them to stay in this world with us and go through it with us. Didn’t they know that we would’ve done anything for them? Didn’t they know they could talk to us? Didn’t they know that we wouldn’t judge them or make fun of them? Why didn’t they know that or feel that? How did we fail so badly to not let that person know how much we loved and needed them, how important they were in our world, how different life is without them and instead having to live with the guilt and doubt. It’s heavy, the burden weighs like a black hole in outer space…

Then there is the shame that goes with being the parent of a child or the partner/husband/wife who has committed suicide. Shame is different to guilt. Shame is the sadness I feel at not being able to correct something that was wrong and I should have. Guilt is the feeling of being responsible for the end result. Neither one of those feelings may be validated in real life, but now that someone has taken their life, it changes those left behind.

There is the question of why, which never goes away. The wonder, the wishing, the ache that it could just change back to when you were here, and alive – it never goes – that wonder, that ache…

A Survivor

Just to Be

Just to be

Just to be painless

I need to

be numb

Just to be painless

I must be

made dumb

I can’t connect

but just lie

in a bed

Life laughs

at my bet

Just to be painless

I can’t be me

Just to be painless

I can’t be free

Just to be painless

and live a life

I wanted to live

The purpose

that would give

Just to be painless…

© Kait King, 2016

Something or Something Else but never Everything

something and something else never everything

I’ve often wondered why just about everything we discuss has to be blah blah blah OR blah blah blah… Why can’t it be both? Why is it not possible that these things are symbiotic? Co-morbid? Dual catalysts? I listen to people discuss the big question of how we got here. The options, in this conversation, may I be so polite, are:

  1. We are created by God
  2. We are from an alien planet and arrived on a rock from outer space
  3. Darwin’s Theory of Evolution.

Okay, so everybody’s got a point and nobody has the answer so there is some validity of possibility in each perspective. Especially if you consider the human to be made up of physical, mental and spiritual capacities and needs, which I do. And in this debate there is even more than two sides to contemplate. So each individual has solid, understandable reasons – well within reason, and are glued to the ground on what those reasons are and why. The discussion becomes what people like to call “heated”. I, totally unlike my robust debatable self, still did not get involved. I could hear the rising of offensiveness from each party as the others poo-poo’ed each others perspectives and theories. It wasn’t going to end well, nobody likes to be poo-poo’ed.

After the hoo-ha and everyone had left, my man and I plonked ourselves in front of the television, grateful for the calm noise and not the hysterical noise. Everyone would get over it but it was always the same with the topic of how we got here, not just with people I knew, but many will argue these points to the enth degree, with really, no real evidence to be honest.

So for me, I decided that being only human, I really knew sweet F.A and to tie it up nicely in my head, I just gather all of that info and think that maybe we were created by some super entity as a 3rd rock, as a planet within a universe. But that was all, then one of the stars in that universe, with life in it, crashed into this 3rd rock and was the prime delight to allow things to flourish and grow, and so it did. And things did evolve and become this amazing exotic world we are fortunate enough to live on now.

Why can’t everyone be right? They can be right somewhere in a time continuum of the human development and creation. They just all need to put their stories together. But like I say, nobody has the answers, and maybe we don’t even find out a bloody thing when we die and still know jack-shit (a good friend of mine)…

The other thing people tend to do this with is my favorite topic – serial killers. For some inane reason we have to ask whether it is nature OR nurture….it’s both for dog’s sake. If you could take a serial killer as a baby and nurture him in a certain way you will either bring out or highlight the best or the worst of that character. What I think we need to realize is that this is a possibility for every child as again, everybody has the capacity to kill, it just depends on how that is brought out in you. For some people, all that has to happen for them to pull out a gun and kill someone, is an insult outside of a bar. For others (myself included) I would have to be in a situation where my life or the life of someone was threatened and they were being hurt. Then I become the killer. We all sit somewhere on that continuum and depending on how we are treated is how we will react. But at the end of the day, intention, mens rea, is everything. So for me it is both, not one or the other in this instance too. I’ve been finding out in my life that things are not always black and white. Human beings are complex, emotional beings with such a variety of combinations of everything that it is impossible to label or put people in boxes. It just doesn’t work like that.

But I must stop rambling now – I have so much I could scribble about – but I will not bore you with my ranting and raving. I put my soapbox away…;) thanks for reading though, if you got through it!

Offender

Cemented down
Concrete furrows
on your brow
Icy stare
eyes of blue
Mouth a gash
of hatred, too

© Kait King, 2015

The Master

kaitkingpromo

I’m not the hero

I used to be

but I’ve mastered

the art of

Insanity

© Kait King, 2015

Suicide – is it really a free ticket out?

Suicide

With a delicate stillness

and a quiet noise

with porcelain perfection

and perfect China poise

the body is supine

lying dead on the floor

supine in exsanguination

a choice to become Death’s whore

Ruby red your favourite colour

you wear it very well

although I won’t see you out much

a story we will tell

Did you get off scot-free?

Did you truly escape?

Or will you have to pay your dues

and return to this landscape…

© Kait King, 2015

Sweet Sugar Spike!

Sweet sugar spike

I am a chocolate addict

call me what you will

Mouth open wide

Chocolate pouring in

that’s how I’d get

my thrill

I am a sugar junkie

call it how you want

I order a starter to have

dessert

at the restaurant

Sweet tooth, sweet freak

call it what you like

but nothing makes me happier

than my sweet sugar

spike!

© Kait King, 2015

I’m Tired

im tired

I’m tired

Tired of not

being included

in your future

Even though

we have a five

year past

I’m tired

of grieving for

my future

When all

you do is

grieve for

your past

It won’t last…

Kait King 2020

At Lunch Today


At lunch today
I fell a little more
in love with you
Your smile grazes the
inside of my heart with
such passion
At lunch today
your blue eyes brighter
for seeing me
Sparkling over
sparkling water
with just a hint
of lemon
that cannot sour
our chemistry
At lunch today
while I watched you
talk
I followed your lips
watched your mouth
heard nothing
and thought just
about kissing
I love having
Lunch with you

© Kait King, 2017

Damn you, Dementia…


Mum at Kai Iwi Lakes, January 2019

You’ve watched me
Grow up
I’ve watched you
grow old
And I speak for you
Now
When I used to do
As I was told
Your face is
Still the same
And your eyes…
They sometimes
know
But your words
Are lost on me
And you
You don’t want me
To go…
I kiss you
Many times
Touch your face
And hug you
Tight
You ask me
Where my Dad is
You’re shocked
When I say
He’s gone…
into
The light

Kait King 2019

My Harry – Goodbye…

I know you’re

With Mum, now

But I miss you

All the same

I miss your constant

meow

And calling out

Your name

I miss you, My Harry

Things are just

Not the same

You’re not lieing

upside down

On the driveway

Or being a

Major pain

I don’t fall over you,

Anymore

And the fridge hasn’t

Been scratched

In a week

I miss stroking

your old body

That once was young

And sleek

I miss your sweet face,

My Harry –

Your cookie-making paws

Your teapot curled

fluffy tail

And everything and more…

Kait King 20th of May 2025

In memory of one of the coolest cats I’ve had the pleasure of sharing a fraction of my lifetime with, but all of his. I wasn’t ready to let him go. I have a massive empty space I don’t know how to fill right now.

And you’re still here …

still here

You look at me

with such

tranquility

I believe perfection

sits here with us

I look at you

with such

admiration

to have entertained me enough

to still sit here

with me

© Kait King, 2016

Say it – No…mean it

Disappointed Love, 1821. Oil on panel, 24 3/4 x 32 in. (62.8 x 81.2 cm). Inv.: FA.65[O].

You say the words

I want to hear

But your actions tell me

loud and clear

that you don’t even

want me here

© Kait King, 2015

The Unknown


And confusion rages
like a winter storm
pushing through my
veins and there’s nothing
I can think
Although there is plenty
I could do
But the storm is
blinding and vicious
And I’m thinking of
my life
Like between a rock
and a hard place
And no, I’m not trapped
I’m not unhappy…
with right now
As the ever-bleeding
heart I’m eased
into the terror of
the unknown
It’s not a bad dream
If it was I wouldn’t know if
I really want to wake up –
Does this just mean for me
that it’s time to face reality?

© Kait King, 2016

Predicktive or is that Unpredicktive Text …’

predicktive text

I am a Master bater

doh….

Baker…..!!!!

Master baker! :/

© Kait King, 2015

Mother’s Day every day

I walk down the aisle
my eyes passing over cards
words springing out
about Mum going
the whole nine yards
And I stop to read a few
The words just seem
insipid
when I think of you,
Mum
A journey into the intrepid
Four babies later
and over 60 years married
Through wars, tonsillitis,
tears and love you tarried
Now, here I am
a mother too
And these words I say: “I love you”
Have also come
from my son’s mouth
and heart
But to say them to you
doesn’t even begin to start
to express what a fantastic Mum you’ve been
You’ve done a good job,
I’m a good human being
So I tell you you’re an amazing Mum
and people are proud
of the job you’ve done!
© Kait King, 2015

Daily grind of a good guy

Daily grind

I come home

the cat’s at my feet

kids are crying

but there’s nothing made to eat

It’s a hard day at work

with paper knee deep

and the heater’s broken

so I can’t get to sleep

Yet another day comes

we follow like sheep

I can’t find the faith

to make that big leap

I know I shouldn’t take it in

so very, very deep

But it seems to be sort of extra hard

when you aren’t someone who cheats

© Kait King, 2015

Blessed Carrion

Blessed Carrion

Beleaguered bones

please carry me there

Flattened feet

walk on

Before an age of telephones

while life is unfair

a vicious sweet

a blessed carrion

you read

you eat

walk on

© Kait King, 2015

Thought # 1

thought 1

If you’re very rarely or never told “No” or don’t have to wait or work for anything, will it be a harder struggle to get on in the World? (This is based on most normal and reasonable of situations – single or separate parenting included and of course, on a continuum).

In the “Real World” no one else treats you the same way as your parents do. No one else cares the same way for you as your parents do. No one else in the World will give you the same leeway. Will one lack a certain resilience because one can’t deal with a No, or don’t understand why it’s a No?

Your Ego takes a beating, hearing all those ‘yeses’ and how wonderful you are at everything and then a No would just take the wind right out of your sails, it’s a shock. Is it about that resilience? Even against adversity and with all the curve balls life throws you, wouldn’t it be better to be able to face that adversity? I am not talking about being a nagging No Hound about everything – but I do think we need to prepare our children for “out there”! Just tell them the truth, make them stand for something, let them know what their strengths and weaknesses are and let them embrace them all and use them to their best advantage in this crazy Life.

If it is about resilience then we must give our children that strength and fight. They need these things to be able to survive – and not just survive but to live well.

Kait King 2017

Dark Man

darkman

What cruel god

sent you to me

dark hair

dark eyes

dark soul

What fallen angel

turned on me

bitter anger

bitter words

bitter mind

What desperado

begged to be

the embittered mind

and darkened soul

in me

© Kait King, 2015

It’s Just Life

it's just life

I am lying

on my bed

it’s too hot

and the TV’s

too loud

Yet the noisiest

thing

is you

in my head

I can hear

the washing machine

beeping and

beeping endlessly

WTF is wrong

with those things?!

I know I should

eat something

but

I truly can’t be

bothered

it’s just

food

it’s just

money

it’s just

love

it’s just

life…

© Kait King, 2016

Shadow Boxing

You

walk among us

Very Shadow-y

Some of us

are skeptics and

some of us

will see

Kait King 2020

knuckle-bite-fright

warped, crippled
twisted and blackened
my monsters will be set free
decrepit, decayed,
barren of soul
sit here or there
and all will see
Damaged, Dangerous,
Dark and Fright
my monsters travel day or night

bad dreams,

bad thoughts,

dark dreams,

No light –

not all is as it seems

with knuckle-bite fright….

© Kait King, 2015

Slowly Summer

Spring into Summer

With drifting tendrils

of Spring

Summer curls her way

into

places

where shadows

hang around

with a Wintery gruffness

A warmth travels –

infrequently

flying through

the trees and grasses

with just a tease

of what’s to come

Sky of blue and spring rains fall

the fluttering tweets

and grassy delights of the

new nesting families hurrying along

Spring’s lazy gait

© Kait King, 2016

whoopdeefrickendoo

crap no map

So it’s another day – whoopdeefrickendoo

Another uncharted territory I have to see myself through

crap…

no map

© Kait King, 2015

The first time

first timejpg

The first time

it wasn’t that much

fun

before I got

my panties off

he was already

done…

© Kait King, 2015

Thanks to you – many thank you’s :)

thank you

To all family, friends, fans, followers and the Universe – thank you, I wouldn’t be on this path if it wasn’t for those of you who are supporting me as I uncrinkle myself from my cocoon to be a new….top selling writer/poet/Monster Maker! But sincerely from the bottom of my heart, thank you x

Crazy Horse

Crazy horse

A young man stood in front of me. Slightly overweight with a bad crew cut. His left arm was heavily bandaged. He held it out to me like an offering – a kind gesture.

“What happened to you?” I asked. He dipped his head shyly and poked a toe at the grubby, coffee-stained carpet.

“It’s a long story.” He mumbled, “I was in love with a girl. I loved her for a really long time.”

His eyes flashed up briefly to catch mine. Glancing up to the right and back to the floor he continued.

“We always walked to school together – I was, I guess, obsessed with her.” I could see another flicker in his eyes, but of hesitation or clutching at a memory. “I bought her flowers and chocolates, wrote her cards and love letters. For a long time…” he trailed off.

“How long?”

“I dunno…” He scrunched his face up as if he was in pain, then breathed out, “Six years, three months, one week and four days.” And obviously still counting, alarmingly!

“That’s a long time to love someone.” I said.

It’s a long time to love someone if they don’t love you back.” He said, looking directly at me – scrutinizing my reaction.

“So why did you keep writing and giving to her?”

I thought she would love me if I could show her how much I loved her. I thought I could have her. She would be mine – but she left. She came up here, to the big smoke. She got a job, and apartment, new friends – a whole life of her own. What she didn’t realise was that she was my life. So I came to live here too. Then I followed her from her work one day. Just pretended I was in the area and had bumped into her, random like. That was not a very good thing to do – she got really mad and told me to leave…to leave her alone.” He stopped, rubbed his good arm across his eyes and sighed.

“That’s when I got this really cool idea!” His face lit up with his remembered ingenuity. “See, I read in a book somewhere that Van Gough had cut his ear off and sent it to the love of his life. So I thought to myself that I would prove how much I loved her – I would send her my arm. That’s bigger than an ear – it must mean more! So the next day I go to work and do my job. When I thought everyone had gone home, I turned my skill-saw back on and tried to cut my arm off.” He swallows a gulp of air and grins at me crazily.

“Geez, didn’t that hurt?” I ask.

“That’s why I stopped!” he laughs. “I pushed my arm onto the saw and it sliced quickly -which was my intention. Blood pissed everywhere – it quickly got through the bones before I had a chance to pull back and well….it was just kind of hanging off and that’s when I thought to myself; Shit, what the hell am I doing – this hurts! What a mess too. I would’ve died too , I suppose, if the other guy hadn’t heard me screaming before I passed out.”

© Kait King, 2015

Are You OK?

No, I’m not OK

she said

And I didn’t know

what to do

But all she really needed

was someone to

talk to

Not everything is

fixable

or even wants to

be fixed, so

we learn to live with

special things

sometimes things we would

never show

some things are just too ugly

to let anybody know

© Kait King, 2016

This Buzzy Little Feeling

There’s this buzzy
little feeling –
right in the center of me
And although my body is weighted
something in there
has zero gravity
Is that my Troubled Spirit
or could it be my Lonely Soul?
If I caste this bodily feeling
is it my Spirit that makes me
Whole?

© Kait King, 2016

The Colour of Forgotten

Inhale me

breathe me

full of love

in our

rustic orange

dreams

in a dusty rose

forgetfulness

and a place

of forgotten

feelings

touch my soul

keep me there

quiet

perfect

and whole

© Kait King, 2015

You Are Never Alone

I am not

Somebody

I am

Everyone

My tears

are Ours

My time

is Hours

Running in

to Days

Years

Decades

I am not

Some Body

I am

Every One

My Heart

beats

a Song

that

my Spirit

sings along

Broken but

Hopeful

Sad but

a Dreamer

I am not

Somebody

I am

Everyone

Kait King 17th February 2020