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Projectivist poem that hazards an insight into one of the Moors murderers (Myra Hindley) mind. It's supposed to read like a recording of her psychotic rambling thoughts, through research I've found that she acted as if she honestly believed that she was innocent whilst behind bars for all those years. As if SHE was the victim, simply manipulated by Ian. In the poem, she desperately tries to cling to any excuse that she can find, trying to convince even herself that she's innocent.  I've come to the conclusion that she didn't feel much remorse for what she had done at all, that she could never really know the extent of the pain she's caused and the fact that she carried on manipulating people through out prison (e.g. starting an intimate relationship with prison guard, using and manipulating her to plan an escape, resulting in the loss of the guard's job and a lengthy prison sentence) shows me that she didn't change one bit, and was very good at twisting the truth, always trying to protest her innocence.This poem is projectivist, it started as a piece of half rhyming prose, but I find that this type of poetry has a very strong effect when writing in a stream of consciousness, with thoughts and memories constantly shifting from each other, jumping and repeating. I hope you can appreciate where I was trying to go with this piece of work, and if you could take the time to give me any feedback, that would be greatly appreciated! Thank you for taking the time to look at my work, I am very grateful :)

It Was All Him and Not Me

   Sitting in the cell,

my own vivid hell. 

Thinking about him,

 what’s he doing now?

Punched me in the belly,

called me a stupid cow.

Called me worse,

 flashbacks to five in the hearse.

Why did you do it?

They constantly ask me,

 it was him,

wasn’t me,

why won’t the world just let me be!

I didn’t do it,

Ian did bit by bit.

Ask him,

don’t ask me,

my love to Ian cost me, a big nasty fee.

Christ forgives me,

why can’t you?

I just did what anyone in love would do.

Call me crazy call me cruel,

 the devil knew how to make me drool.

Time goes by and the hate I’ve felt

it just won’t die.

Britain’s most hated woman,

what about Britain’s most hated man?

He did all of this, he’s the one that put me in the police-van.

He buried five in the moors,

causing the police to show up outside their family’s front doors.

I’m innocent,

why can’t they see?

They just laugh at me and throw away the key.

I should have stopped him,

 but it’s too late now,

 so I’ll just say I’m innocent,

I solemnly swear,

I vow!

I’ll speak of the Lord when people are watching,

then they can’t complain,

for I am a woman of God I’ll say,

then behind closed doors,

his name in vain!

They all call me a bitch,

 an ugly evil peroxide witch.

Branded the Devil’s wife, lived a lifetime of strife.

Poor innocent me,

I soothe my pain with different women sitting on my knee.

Why do I remain here still?

It wasn’t me, but him that could kill.

When they tell me I’m not innocent,

 I’ll just keep a blank face and remain ignorant.

Don’t know what you’re talking about I’ll say,

 he manipulated me,

 so please let me out one day?

My whole life I’ve given up, they even took away my pup!

I used to need his touch,

even though he hurt me so much.

I tell them I’m a victim,

just suffering at the hands of this twisted system!

I used to get lost in the night,

used to adore the sunlight.

Now I’m stuck inside here,

locked in forever, my biggest fear!

I remember the innocent faces,

 now lying still,

their bodies in cases.

We washed his clothes after our nights out in the sink,

turning the water a warm sickly pink.

Why did I allow it,

now that’s what I think,

how I sat and spoke about it over a drink.

Thought no one could touch us,

 no one would make much of a fuss.

That’s what he’d say lying in bed,

no one would find out that they were dead.

I smiled and believed,

oh how I was deceived!

 It’s not fair,

 I just thought we were giving them a bit of a scare.

 He did it all,

why can’t I be left to stand tall!

Take me away I beg of my new lady friend,

all of our life together, we will spend!

I don’t love her really,

 no not deep down.

I just enjoy taking off her gown.

Lost on the moor, what was it all for?

Now that we’re apart,

 I realise that I haven’t been very smart,

but he had my heart,

 it’s as if he’d shot at it with a dart!

 Puncturing and possessing me till the very end,

now left with a broken heart that just won’t mend.

 Flashbacks to the child,

 the wind that night was so wild.

‘I’ve lost my glove’,

that’s how I brought a child to my love.  

Let me go! She cried,

she wriggled fought and tried.

If only I could escape,

 I can hear her voice on that tape.

My heart so black,

we carried the bodies in a sack.

He told you to I tell myself,

close your mind,

 lock your thoughts up and put them on the shelf.

My poor disturbed mind,

 the nights here are not too kind!

 I used to sit and pout,

years have gone by,

 now I’m tired and just want out.

 I’d climb high up to the top of a tree,

no trouble from me,

where no one can see if only they could let me be free.

The pain I’ve had to endure,

when it was him who killed the pure.

Five bled then Ian and I would talk about it,

lying together in bed.

They all ask me the same thing, why?

But why ask me,

it was him that made them die!

I forgave him with a kiss,

all the things he’d done,

I’d just dismiss.

‘I love you’ he said,

easing all of my fear and dread.

He used to make me moan,

before turning my heart to stone.

These thoughts, they run over and around each other all day.

I hope that he can’t sleep or dream,

 I hope the dark nights make him squirm and scream.

These are all the thoughts that smother me,

written down for the naked eye to see.

My innocence I will protest till the end,

I hope he’s going round the bend.

My doubts I know I can’t deny…

that all the world can see my lie.

They can see that I was the one who led the children to their last breath,

I was the one that allowed their death.

I’ll decorate my life with a religious respectable glitter

 but I’ll never stop being bitter.

He said he’d stay forever then he left me lost and cold,

now I’m stuck here,

sat getting old!

I don’t deserve it,

surely you can see,

why won’t you believe that it was all him and not me?