Outer Hebrides: Zombie

Empty shell
Ran out of energy
Am vegetarian not eating brains
But eating life force of everyone I encounter

Must have the boy!
For my energy

Must cause pain!
For my pleasure

Must cause harm!
For my joy

Must cause grief
For my thrill

Must cause drama
For my entertainment

Zombie empty shell

Cannot feel but hate
Cannot feel but anger
Cannot feel but despise
Cannot feel but arousal

I won the battle
I got the boy
I showed them who’s in charge
I shoved two fingers and climaxed
In my victory

I know not
That I already lost the boy

I know not
Of his strength

I know not
Of his heart

I won’t understand his compassion
I won’t understand his love

I cannot love
I cannot feel empathy
I am a life lost


Parental Alienation

Time lost
Opportunities lost

My heart breaks
Every day
Watching you wait

I worry
Every day
That the sadness will take over
Engulf you too much

I am sad
For them
I know how no dad feels like
The echo is still painful

The border between
The three of you
Isn’t permanent
But it might as well be

The Mexican wall
Is her manipulation
As intangible as the other narcissist’s dream
But solid and prohibiting
All the same

They are lost on the other side
With no way to cross

Their covert and overt attempts
Under a gaslight burning so much oxigen
They can’t breathe anymore

Meanwhile you try to build wings
With duct tape so old it won’t hold anymore
Meanwhile you try to build a bridge
But the Lego bricks are brittle
Meanwhile you try to make a door
But the rusty hinges are jammed

You never know if they know
Off your attempts to scale the wall
You never know if they think
You abandoned them

That’s what’s on the propaganda channels
All day
All night
No matter how often they try to change the channel

They do not see your pain
They do not see your grief
They do not see your sadness
They do not see your broken hopes

The radio is too loud
There is some advertisement in-between the propaganda
Positive reinforcement with expensive presents
The media output is relentless
The words are vile

They cannot hear you hammer
They cannot hear you cry

Told you

Told you not to poke the bear
Told you not to eat the Cake
Told you not to play with them
Told you not to tread so loudly
Told you not to love your dad

Defended you against the bear
Saved you from becoming fat
Yelled at them for being mean
Taught you how to be considerate
Rewarded you for calling him names

Never told you bear was friend
Never told you cake makes happy
Never told you they are nice
Never told you that’s not how loud sounds
Never told you how much he loved you

You are mine
And mine alone
Therefore I can’t let you go
Go to be who you are meant to

So I told you
Told you not to
Told you not to do
Not to do
Made you feel
Like you

Suffixes for Abuse

The prefixes you have for me
Usually start with fucking (insert derogatory term here)
You used them the moment you knew off me
Not anything about me–just off me

A threat to your carefully spun web of deceit
Of course you feel threatened by me
You cannot manipulate me
You cannot predict me

Your open threat:
‘Hands down I will win.’
Won’t work with me
I am healing–the noun
That means I am ripping off band-aids

Granddad always said:
‘Let air touch the wound to heal.’
Air, and light, and love
You won’t stop me loving them
You won’t stop me healing them

But you, you
For you I have given up
I have let go

And as of now
–after enduring years of your prefixes–
For you I have a suffix
May she rot in hell


Life isn’t
Mutually exclusive
Love isn’t
Mutually exclusive

Your space to live
To thrive
To grow

My space to live
To thrive
To grow

His love for you
His love for me

My love for you
My love for him

There is so much space
For it all

However, protect your love
Your love for yourself

Her pain
Is not yours to carry
Her darkness
Is not yours to follow
Her abuse
Is not yours to mirror
Her hate
Is not yours to pass on
Her bile
Is not yours to swallow
Her lie
Is not yours to believe
Her violence
Is not yours to bear

Sweet child o’mine
Brave girl high heels rolling
Beautiful mind full of stars
Smile like the sun
The warmth of summer

Come home
Little bird grown
Come home

Abused Men

Like an Ikea shelf 
She dismantled him
There were screws left
Who cares
She shrugged

Women can be abusers too
Get over it

Trembling the boards fell down
Every time she incomprehensibly panted down the phone
Threw up words like bile that won’t stay in
Projectile vomiting of hatred

Like an Ikea shelf
He would tremble
To cope

His sin? You ask
Was not to obey the psychopath
Not play the game any longer
Making her meaningless in his life

She can’t abide
Not winning
Not playing
Not cheating
Not lying

She needs to fucking win
She cheated with three different guys
Just because she could
She abused until there were witnesses

Then she ran
She span
She twisted
She warped
She threw up more bile

It’s all pointless
She is spinning
A perpetuate motion machine
Without hope to win
Over the one thing she ought to win over
Her inner demons

The extented version

Greed couldn’t breathe
Panick encrouched from all directions

Must win battle
Must win battle
Must win battle

The fog monster had wrapped it’s tentacles around her warped mind
The warrioress was a deadend
Manipulation didn’t work
Abusing her didn’t work

Where is the weak link?

Her eyes darkened
A vicious grin
Grimace what used to be a face

An elderly mother
With ailing health
I take the monster to her
I will let it’s tentacles wrap around her

And so she went
Off to find yet another proxy
For the war against herself

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