Discordant Note
Scratching, floating
Hanging in the air
Pressure ebbs and flows
Headpiece filled with straw
A twisted melody lingers
Confusion and rage entwined
Resentment's bitter sting
Wrestles with sorrow's whine
Innocence stolen, trust shattered
By hands meant to protect
The child within still bleeds
Silently searching, begging for respect
Justice denied, our secrets buried
Master manipulator
A monster cloaked in lies
Crimes still hidden
Despite Death's hand
Too late for tortured cries
Feet of clay now returned to dust
From whence they darkly came
Leaving behind a tangled mess
Of trauma, grief and shame
The urge to desecrate, destroy
Wage war upon their grave
Wrestling with guilt, pity and relief
Yes, he is no more
But I am not yet saved
This victory feels hollow
An unearned, empty gift
When wounds still pulse and throb
No closure, the burdens unshift
I imagine looking for the tombstone,
Fists and soul clenched tight,
Anger, disgust, and rage.
Shadows cast doubt over my morals,
Compass dysfunctional, truth estranged.
Like Basque tongues tangled with Ainu clicks,
A labyrinth of questions ethics inflicts.
No tears of mourning shed
No idea the monster was laid to rest
Three years later, a happy accident
Release a demon locked deep in my chest
How to reconcile the little child
Who needed love and care
With the person now made to carry
This discordant note hanging in the air
In the depths of this discordance
Frustration and confusion still rise
Dare I confront the shadows
Curse their peaceful demise?
Every anguished scream swallowed
Each day, coerced, suffocated in silence
Transmuting years of buried aches
Why not release in rightful fierce violence?
Through serpentine paths of healing
Piece by shattered piece remade,
Scars shimmering with untold stories
Of battles braved and traumas mourned
In owning all that was endured
By innocent hands and shattered trust
Languidly learning to cradle, soothe
My inner child waiting, weeping in the dust
Each breath is an act of bravery
Every step is defiant, resolute
Reclaiming fractured narratives
No longer voiceless or mute
Through my poetry, I find release
May its rhythm grant me peace.
This journey from victim to victor
Is paved with shards of broken self
Reassembled by courageous hands
Into mosaics of pain and health
A symphony of survival
Echoes in the spaces in between
I cannot rewrite my cruel history
I yearn like others to live and dream
Beyond the reach of phantom hands
That sought to break and steal and mar
I rise in revolutionary softness
Tempered by battles, reminded by scars
The discordant note, a stubborn seed,
Resists the soil, its tyranny decreed,
Yet woven slow, within the larger frame,
An ostinato may conquer its shame,
Finds solace in the weave, a timeless plea,
Echoing Eliot, Stravinsky rewrites history.
Amidst the onslaught of festive frenzy,
Neurodivergent minds reel a tempest here to sear.
Senses assaulted, relentlessly vexed,
Christmas chaos leaves us perplexed.
Masking's breaking, taking weight, a suffocating shroud,
Authenticity lost in the neurotypical crowd.
ADHD autism's ache, an adult's disgrace,
So, invisible struggles are present in this merry place.
Pain's persistent, pounding refrain, an endless score,
Fibromyalgia's claws, forever tore.
Spine curved like a question mark,
Vertigo's dance, a dizzying arc.
Poverty's clutch cuts deep, leave plans in disarray,
Opportunities vanish, like mist in the day.
Isolation, depression, chronic cursed alone,
In a world where bonds stretch, then are gone.
Trauma mars, leaves scars, rape's brutal seal,
cPTSD's tortures - terrors forever real.
Triggers flashbacks, a minefield within,
Clock tick-tocks, the night's wearing thin.
Passivity creeps in just like a mischievous elf,
A sinister spirit keeps us captive, steals our self.
Painfully forcing out a cry, on deaf ears they fall,
"You knew they wouldn't", it sneers, "more unanswered calls".
In despair's abyss, hope's flicker dies,
As the world rejoices, behind a joyful disguise.
Countless unseen battles and unheard cries,
Anguish, desperation, pain, do naked eyes lie?
To those who feign concern, a warning rings clear,
Your platitudes and neglect, a deafening sneer.
For in the depths of despair, a reckoning brews,
When the desperate depart, with nothing to lose.
In the sombre, silent night, when alienation reigns,
The psyche buckles, under the weight of its chains.
Remember, you who turned a blind eye,
The blood on your hands as the outcast dies.
So let the silence shatter, let the truth be known,
For the neglected and broken, forever alone.
May their memory haunt, may their absence resound,
A damning indictment, of the help never found.
Silently in the night, isolation's doom looms,
For those left to rot, in desolation's tombs.
A scourge on false kindness, on empathy's dearth,
As the forgotten depart, from this merciless Earth.
A warning to those who still pretend to care,
Of the anguish hidden, behind festive despair's lair.
Family friends forsaken in desolation's night,
Cast aside, ignored as time ticks on, year's plight.
In the silent night, a dirge ascends,
For those struggling, lost at the year's end.
Society's apathy, an unpalatable bitter pill,
Washed down with tears, we fade away against our will.
Let the silence break; let the truth be told,
Of the torment endured, the agony untold.
In summer's sweat, a reckoning should rise,
Power imbalances now, no escape our fate's demise.
May our ghosts haunt the whole season bright,
Reminding us of those for whom this time's a blight.
In the season's glare, coalescing shadows reign,
Numerous reasons, curses feeding this pain.
A moment of stillness, amidst the hurricane,
A flicker of self, in the endless pain.
Battered and bruised, yet still we stand,
In defiance of a world, that refuses to understand.
Whilst it is true, many times I have tried,
But for my animals, it is on me that they rely.
As night follows day and day follows night,
Dark forces frantically fighting, stealing my fight.
Hope's a medicine, both a curse and a sure cure,
Healing if repeatedly given - the source pure.
Decidedly dangerous, deadly, dangled as a prize,
Breaking faith's wraith, soon you and society they'll despise.
A pox on ableism, on empathy's lack,
As we vanish slowly, our lives off-track.
In the silent night, our requiem it plays,
The forgotten ones, left on birthdays and holidays.
I. The Hacked Poet
Digital daggers pierce my screen,
Trust bleeds out where words had been.
Keystrokes shatter, voice hijacked,
My essence stolen, soul ransacked.
Whispers poison, wires aflame,
Bridges burn—who's left to blame?
II. The Targeted Girl
Ping! Ping! Predator's dance,
Pixels bright with false romance.
Click. Tap. Swipe. Tactics unfold,
Innocence crushed, futures sold.
Sweet nothings curdle, turn to bile,
Hope withers 'neath his toxic guile.
III. The Silenced Competitor
Where verse should soar, he lurks in shade,
Spite his ink, our light to fade.
Belittling brilliance, stealing shine,
Acid pen corrodes divine.
Art gasps for air, choked by disgrace,
Janus-masked fraud usurps our space.
IV. The "Saved" Soul
Saviour's mask, a hollow star,
"Help" leaves scars, near and far.
Self-praise echoes, spirits wilt,
Crushed beneath towers of guilt.
Puppet strings, not wings, he brings,
Rescue's ruse—how freedom stings!
V. The Witness to Lies
Death, illness feigned with glee,
Attention's void for all to see.
Tales spun from a forked tongue,
Truth and fiction come undone.
Even facts taste of deceit,
Trust now ashes at our feet.
Chorus (All Voices)
Beware the poet, serpent's pen!
Venomous verses strike again.
In webs of lies, we're spun and caught,
Our voices puppeteered, distraught.
Can you hear our silent screams?
Do you see our shattered dreams?
His falsehoods bloom, then wither fast,
But trauma's shadow long will last.
For liars gain one bitter prize:
Doubt clouds truth, trust quickly dies.
Behind each mask, our essence fades,
A cautionary tale cascades.
Urgency pulses through our veins,
Act now—before more fall in chains.
Words are weapons, shields, and balm,
Speak out to break deception's calm.
Our stories echo, raw and real,
To warn, to heal, to help reveal.
The only time Im a slave is when its for you,
Youre the only one that makes me feel this way,
The cold metal against my hot flesh,
I cant get enough of feeling torn apart,
I try to hide it,
Its my secret,
Its our secret,
The way you feel pushing against me,
The break of the skin under your touch,
Sliding along and watching it open like a zipper,
White flesh with a hint of pink,
You push again,
You unzip more flesh,
The first starts to produce round garnet gems,
Slowly filling the space you made,
A third,
A fourth,
upto ten unzipped pockets,
More and more garnets start to form,
Pretty little gems against the pale white flesh,
A rush of heat through my body,
A burning on my leg,
Not hot like fire,
Just heat without pain,
All of a sudden the garnets run away,
Leaving marks like tears running down my leg,
Somehow theyre hotter than the heat in the area,
Glistening and shiny,
Streaks of garnet running in different directions,
Ah there it is,
There is that feeling you always priomise me,
A shiver runs from head to toe like a ripple,
A wave of calm sets in,
The euphoria released,
I feel content,
I feel satisfied,
I feel numb,
I hold you close to me,
You lay there still and motionless,
Still perfectly clean,
Still razor sharp,
Still gleaming in the weak light,
I feel satisfied,
I feel high,
I feel numb.