Dauntless.

Today I am reminded of the time when you asked me, can you be a member of dauntless.

Your every tear that falls
falls in me too.
As your soul fights to be brave
mine is torn apart.
Today your heart feels so very dark.
So how can I tell you…
Your heart is beating too fast,
and every sound is louder than the last.
There’s a swarm of bees in your body
That can’t break free.
Your legs hurt
Your arms hurt
Your skin hurts
Your soul hurts.
Tears are caught on your tongue
and all you want is mum.
But instead you are at school
But instead you are at school.

KH. ©2016

Just rambling.

There is nothing I love more in life than listening to children communicating in this odd and exciting world. My daughter has her besty round today and so far they have had me in stitches….

Besty…is blind.

My monkey is autistic and has SPD and hates clothes and heat…(ages 8+9)

Me: Where are your clothes?

Monkey: I took them off. I’m hot.

Me: You have to keep clothes on when you have people round.

Monkey: Mum shes blind, that’s why shes my best friend, I don’t have to wear clothes round her!!!!!

Ha ha ha I cannot argue with this!

 

Monkey:Mum, can me, besty, daddy and grandad go park? Actually not Grandad he walks too slow.

Me: Park is closed for cleaning today.

Besty: The one by the school is open that one is always open.

Me: they closed that one for cleaning.

Besty: Monkey, I think your mum tells lies!!!

Monkey: My mum doesn’t tell lies…

Walks away explaining that I don’t tell lies but I sometimes do tricks on her, and says, I might be tricking them that the park is closed. lol

 

This one made me giggle alot….

Besty: Karen, what are you doing, I can hear you singing….

Me: Taking a break sweety, if you need anything go to…hubby.

Besty: A break!! You’re so lucky to have a break I never get a break!!!

Me: Yeah cos your days are so busy what with all that playing lol

Besty: I have to do home work as well you know!!!

 

HA HA HA HA HA….God I wish I only had to worry about homework, I miss those days lol

 

Oh I love these girls.

 

 

My kinda different.Writing prompt., Diverse.

Writing prompt diverse

She isn’t like you,
she’s different.
She isn’t wrong,
and neither are you.
She’s just different.
She has a love of films,
So long as they ain’t for kids.
She thinks Tim Burton rocks,
and don’t ever,
I mean ever
play Marvel/DC/star wars eye spy with her,
you will lose.
She can tell you what day any date within the month will be,
she spent ten minutes searching her monopoly money for the £60 note.
She loves the bad boys, Anakin, Oscar, Wolverine, Tony Stark….poor Captain America always gets a raw deal from her.
She thinks everyone deserves to be helped,
no matter what the crime.
She holds open doors and smiles,
but gets so utterly confused when people don’t say, thank you
and tears fall and fall.
Shes hot, always, like a walking radiator,
I know why you stare as rain falls and everyone huddles in their hat, scarf and gloves,
except her, in her shorts and t-shirt dancing through the puddles
I know why you stare,
I wish you knew how much I cared.
I understand what you see
I try to believe.
Yeah she’s a little harder than others,
and you’ll spend the day repeating yourself,
Over
and
Over,
until she realises, over there means over there!
She can’t tie laces or brush her hair,
She needs prompting to dress
and never, ever grabs her coat…or jumper.
Making a mess is easy
tidying it up is a battleground,
she needs what she needs,
some days nothing,
Other days she has an arm full of teddies a bag of clothes, books, DVDs, dolls, action figures and random stones,
‘here’ she says cramming it in the bag
without it, the day just won’t happen,
so together we push, pull and heave.
She’s not like you,
she’s different,
she’s still a kid of almost nine,
just a kid,
she’s not like yours,
she’s different
and that’s okay,
she’s my kinda different.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Humanity not authority. (I’m sorry)

It’s okay i’ll pick up the broken pieces of your thoughtless crime,

after all, you are beyond reproach, the responsibility is mine.

I don’t ask that you truly understand, just that you try

so that when I am holding her, I see hope, when she cries.

If you could only pause and open your mind

look at her, that’s when you’ll find.

I give you the answers but if you refuse to look

she will remain an old and dusty unopened book.

‘I’m sorry.’

Such a simple expression expected daily from them.

Never from you, a futuristic example from which to stem.

You are unique and I will treat you so, do You understand?

You tell her this, me this, the board of governors this,

yet even you don’t believe this bullshit.

In your fight for authority

you’ve forgotten how it is to see.

Lead by example, show her that when she makes a mistake

when the anxiety rises and her words it does take,

show her humanity,

not authority.

Don’t ask more questions, she has no answer beyond fear

she will only utter what she believes you want to hear,

for this soul crippling reality you give her punishment

another missed opportunity for you to have given nourishment.

She is sorry, her tears the evidence, the lonely walk, the mornings washing

But are you?

Are you sorry that you were unable to see a very simple dated error?

Are you sorry that you punished terror with terror?

Are you sorry that you chose to use words that she could not understand,

and that after, you didn’t hold out your hand?

Are you sorry that your mistake pushed her into a responsive state?

I’m sorry,

your apology now, would come too late.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

 

What is forgiveness.

What is forgiveness? I’ve spoke those words a thousand times over and still I search for peace. I’ve forgiven your knowing spiteful tongue, i’ve forgiven your chosen ignorance. I’ve worked tirelessly to hold together the slipping strings as you have pulled and pulled demanding respect for your title alone. I have shed tears in the darkness on the balance of your belief. I have stood alone day after day because you refuse to accept her. Pride, my pride was swallowed down the moment I became.Standing alone in the darkness with my pride, you have danced holding it up as though a trophy of my defeat, I forgive therefore I am naive, I am weak. I am without bitterness, I am without hate.I am beginning to wonder at what point I should close the gate. You are blinded by your own selfish beliefs. You are blinded by fear. Perhaps, forgiveness is meant for me, I cannot make you see, perhaps this time, forgiveness is meant for me.

Karen Hayward ©2015.

I wish I had of known you.

Dedicated to all of the friends I have made along the way, the parents/grandparents and relatives and sometime’s just simply the people who get it!

I wish I had known you when

the health visitor asked

‘Is that all she can say?’

I wish I had known you that day

full of doom and gloom,

the first time sitting in the

children’s outpatient waiting room.

I wish I had known you

the first day it became inappropriate

for her to cry and freeze

in the super market, all eyes on me.

On the outside I was a rock

on the inside pink melting candy floss.

I wish I had known you when she was five

and still the stairs she screamed were too high.

I wish I had known you then.

It would have been nice to have had a friend.

I wish I had known you when the first friend

dropped away, communications just came to an end.

I wish I had known you every step of the way,

because had I , I’d have been able to say…

You’re doing just fine,

you’re so very kind,

I’ve a moment to hear

I can always be near.

As you hit each new issue

and reach for a tissue

I would have listened.

I would have stood at your side

been along for the ride.

I wish we would have known each other

back then,

when all of us felt alone and needed a friend.

Karen Hayward ©2015

 

A mothers voice in chaos.

♥ For Emily-Rose, always I will be your voice.

 

Dear Teacher,

They tell me to empower you to show you the way

to tell you the things that you really should say.

They tell me to stay calm and use positive words

but surely you know the definition of these terms.

Individuals you say you treat them the same

a contradiction of words your excuses are lame.

But you know best, you learned from a book

and just a few years is all it took.

You’ve seen it before you’ll see it again

these kids to you are simply a pain.

They need this, they need that

and fidget constantly where they are sat.

They’re calm, they’re a whirlwind, a tornado of sorts

and no one really knows what’s in those thoughts.

So hard to reach

so hard to teach,

so listen now to a mothers speech.

Listen to me and you’ll hear her voice

anxiety is not her choice.

She doesn’t choose to with hold

or do exactly what she’s told.

She isn’t all smiles and happy and love

why can’t you see she finds school tough?

Open your eye’s and watch how she flies,

can’t you see how much she tries?

she mimics the world but the clues are there

please, just show her that you actually care.

Do as you tell and look as you see

be the person you want her to be.

Don’t tell her you will, you can and it’s done

her fears are real not a bit of fun.

I know she’s a mouse in a black hole of silence

but the anxiety she feels is an internal violence.

Stop looking past, over and through

show her that she can trust you.

Each day I stand back and watch her walk

knowing she’s spending another day unable to talk.

You’ll utter across her avoiding her eyes,

‘why didn’t tell me? Why?’

Your tone has gone up, your body has moved

gone is the voice all tender and smooth.

She did wrong, she did wrong and doesn’t know why

her tears are swelling she just wants to cry.

But you hold that stare, the one filled with fear

waiting for the answer to suddenly appear.

The answer to what? The why’s and the hows

forgotten by the now’s?

Why am I telling you this

you trained for years to become their Miss.

Why every few months are we here once again

whatever I tell you, it ain’t gonna change.

So I take a deep breath and think of glitter

trying to push back the emotional bitter.

I smile and talk and go through the list

hoping to God there’s nothing I’ve missed.

You’ll nod and agree and say you can see

this is reality, the way it will always be.

 

Karen Hayward ©2015

 

If I had known when you were born.

If I had known that day when they placed you in my arms

the life that fell ahead of you.

If I had known the fear that would consume you,

the confusion that would become you.

If I had known the long hours and limited breaks.

If I had known how many negatives I would need to make up for.

If I had known the whirlwind of constant you would be

and the energy it would take to keep up.

If I had known that so many things would feel wrong

and so few would feel right for you.

If I had known.

If I had known when they placed you in my arms

I would have done not a single thing differently.

Except perhaps I would have slept a little deeper while I could.

Karen Hayward (copyright) 2015.

 

Love.

I didn’t know what love was,
Till I held you,
in my arms that night,
As the night sky cleared
and the moon light rained down.
I didn’t know what love was,
Till a small cry escaped your lips as we lay sleeping in the
lonely room,
i didn’t know what love was till i reached across and felt the needle in my hand pull me back,
till i ripped the needle out and watched my blood pool as I gathered up your tiny little body and held you close, and whispered in your ear, a promise. A promise of love.

Karen Hayward ©2015.