slightly imperfect
I hear the panic
phone line cuts
I see her name
my daughter and I know
Denial
Don’t come around, I rang by mistake she whispers;
another way she hides, not moving,
like a stiff corpse, voice clamped but I find her.
No matter how well she covers, holding her breath, her feet are always dangling in clear view.
Truth
I see her nose bruised and bleeding, wiping his spit from her brow,
blood runs through the kitchen like a flowing red satin ribbon,
ripped splatter of crimson on her cream jumper hurriedly hid under dirty tea towels.
My granddaughter’s small innocent frame mopping up the spill with toilet roll dabbing at the puddles that seep,
already in training to hide the abuse.
Lies
Her mouth tells me lies,
untruths and excuses,
I know this song -I know this dance
I see her I know her, I was her.
I still believe in my throat this blood is my fault,
my granddaughter’s shadow next to me, little fingers cling to mine -watching.
Stand-back
She has her own life
and although I want to rip his head off,
baptise him in a ring of fire,
I know I must observe and not disturb,
Arms length.
Helpless.
I want to scoop her back into my womb, away from male hands that hurt
Her story is my story and my granddaughter at four is learning love equals blood and the truth we mute.
Once upon a time
When I look at my grandchildren what do I see,
A world of possibility but will that ever be?
A daddy that takes heroin for his tea
A mammy that austerity cuts have left on her knees
My two Cinderella’s crushed by poverty giggles given freely crushed by poverty
Police don’t protect them -puts the blame on mam
Social workers don’t protect them insist that they see dad
The drug test promised to keep them safe isn’t done
They find themselves in danger hid in an unfamiliar room
Agencies blame funding like that makes a good excuse!
Mams benefits are sanctioned because mam didn’t get the letter
The letter the postman couldn’t deliver because dad had threatened to light the house whilst Cinderella s sleep
Result fireproof letterbox that failed to open
So, mums got no cash, no sleep but plenty of fear! crushed
Legal system don’t get me started let dad out within a few hours after every yes, every arrest
The wasted bravery it took from mam to go to court
He pleads guilty and a fine to pay at a penny a day
Solution by agencies move mam and Cinderella’s away
Her family scramble to get deposit for their rented escape
Dad roams safe streets whilst like hostages Cinderella s flee
Here one minute gone the next clock strikes midnight
There happily ever after is in a different county
Mams no choice but to re-apply and fight for every penny Cinderella’s need, crushed
Freezing cold, bright house loans no family to rely on,
Mams heart aches with love for the girl’s hush hush hush
Thanks to the cuts all in one bedroom they slumber Cinderella’s in a single bed and mam festering on the blow-up mattress on the floor
But at least they are safe
not our problem anymore
30% of Britons children are classed as poor in 2017
2/3 from working families
Half of all children in poverty are from single-parent families
Wake up. Children need you now.
Fragile
Shiny hair, high heels and lip-gloss
Back on the market looking for love
He presses against me, gets as close as he can
promises me, he is my ideal man
Rescuing me from feeling alone
I advance to him panting
I’ve found a safe home
He is my fragile man made of glass and I will softly hold him and not smash him
I’m a pup yapping “please love me please love me “
He disapproves with an eye squint
I’m just too much
Then he strokes my ego
With a wink from his green eyes
quickly I react to his commands
Sit -I will remain silent, shut my mouth, smile
Come- I will go directly to him no distractions
Good girl -Relief
He is my angry man made of steel and I deserve the beating
Down -clothes off, open legs he devours my naked flesh
Stay -remain still, numb you are a vessel for him to come -endure the pain
Release -my favourite words I now can move to bathroom and wash away his bodily fluids
Good girl -I Bork internally and pulse revulsion
He is my mistake man, but he makes me feel I can’t leave
One off
Stripped bare bent
His reflection behind me in the kitchen window
He only gets hard when I’m clenched shut
dry blistering in his erection
women’s design so easily to thread
Resistance from my head puts tension between my legs
forced into submission
“One off “‘my mind says he loves me
The weight on my body startles me awake
Dreamlike I pat his naked flesh
I’m paralysed in shock this is real
I play dead whilst he slams
Still I remain whilst he plays
Till it trickles into a patch underneath me
My body swerves to escape the wet
“One off “my mind says he loves me
Good Hiding
Always be nice, smiling immunises,
learn to engage not giving self away
pan stick apply -maximum coverage minimum effort
drape scarfs to hide bites and hand marks.
Long sleeve tops to hide the dents
flat shoes for running
cigarettes and alcohol to sedate
medicate often, sleep a welcome break.
Phone is a tag
curfews and monitors
given on conditions
that will not be broken.
Loyal bestie number on recall
safe word agreed she knows the score
£10 hid under the bed
driving licence, keepsakes, creep to front door.
Stay low,
Dodge,
Weave,
Smile
Leave
Getting Served
The ice cream van of friendship hits my street,
blasting out I’m a survivor and I’m on my feet;
she offers me 2 scoops of it’s time to move on with an extra sprinkle of
you are enough and a flake of you rock
She delights in throwing the nuts on the
melting
mess
hands on hips we got this sauce
All aboard.