A Lost Cause

Gasping for air as she runs from the overpowering storm, rain drops pound against her skin. The water washes everything away, she’s consumed by a foreign, unrecognisable selfishness. Her lungs on fire aching for air, legs burning as the muscles clench she staggers.

Raindrops like leeches pulls at the memories from her mind.

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Locked heart, silent screams stuck in long breaths. Anguish lost in the bite of cotton. Torture my mind, pinch until liquid leaks from my eyes. Wring out my heart it throbs a plea that torments my veins. Scorch me with your long dirty nails, but you will not understand. I am not your fertile field to conquer. Take your manhood to another battlefield.

I want to say things, the words are drawn in my mind, sounds at the back of my throat, taste on the tip of my tongue, they clatter against my teeth, a sigh leaves my lips and burns as the words die on my lips. Black like ash, they fall like gravity pulled too hard, a moment of weakness was inevitable.Speak I command. It is the unfathomable, the comprehensive, the unknown and known, the mimicked but unique, break the seething seeding silence. Be not its womb. A voice I have but words yet uncreated to announce the betrayal in my conscious or the daggers that cause me quivering pain. Leak into my skin, seep and seek me.

New Beginnings In Thanatos


Screams echoed around the room. Realising they were mine I closed my hand tightly over my mouth. I was drenched in sweat, though the room was cold. Shuddering I untangled myself from the messy sheets. I opened the window. The darkness felt suffocating, a perilous abyss. They were out of my reach.


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They were like hawks watching their prey, their wrath emitting towards me in waves. The glass reflecting my defeated self with my acceptance of what would come. My shaky palms moist as I brushed them against my jumper.

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Screams left her mouth, each an octave higher. Unaware that I stopped, my knees buckled and I fell to the ground. A door scraped the stone floor; her screams persecuted me. Vibrations shook the walls, electricity shot through my spine and awakened me, if under some pretense had I thought this hallucination. Hearing the lashes from the belt whip against her, my skin prickled and blistered with pain. Grunts and sighs echoing around me.

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Revenge on Narnia

“You can’t come Lucy!” screamed Rosie, slamming the wardrobe door behind her. Rage filled the ten year old as she reached for Dad’s hammer. CRACK! Adrenaline pulsed through her, shards of wood splintering everywhere.

She sat amongst the dismantled wardrobe, her siblings trapped in Narnia forever, grief suddenly taking over.


There were more consultations, more hushed whispers, more pain and less comfort; nowadays Mum’s eyes were even more raw.

You had been prodded with needles, bone marrow biopsies and transplant, chemotherapy and tests, tests, tests. There wasn’t an inch of your skin that hadn’t been pierced, bruised or scratched since you entered St. Mary’s. Even the smallest of falls would cause deep painful bruising so you weren’t even allowed to walk. You used a wheelchair and that made you angry.

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