See what they see…

He stroked tangles into her once luscious mane,
and peppered it in the muted hues of time.
He smoothed the years across her brow
and etched his hate
within her blunt laughter lines.
He left a thesis of his dysfunction written between the grains of her invalid groin
and ringed the spoils of her scars in red ink.
He left her skin bare of kisses, of love,
of exploration or pleasure
he tamed the primal beast
he groomed her into silence
then gave her a mirror
and said…

See? Then grinned menacingly.

He stroked tangles into her once luscious mane…

Karen Hayward © 2019

Image via Google search.

The gentle essence of sleep leaves me now
I stretch away the cold snake of winter
that crept beneath the blankets open mouth
and curled around my slumberous splinter.

I listen for a short second to birds,
they sing of merriment and joyous days
a perfect orchestra requiring no words
existing through the melody of play.

I watch a lone drop of water diving
happy, into a pool of ecstasy
sporadic tip taps and gleeful sightings
I pause and drink in this reality

Rising with cold still upon my tired skin
I pull on a soft, worn, cashmere jumper
embracing now soft pinks and floral prints
I am the hushed tones of succubus amber

I try to recall the day I became this new essence of femininity
and decide it was always there in haze,
Hiding behind my broken fantasies.

I sit by the open window and see,
sleep has left me free from worries, concerns
and in the silence the serenity nurtures me
And I am at peace listening to the birds

Karen Hayward ©2019

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I realise, a day will fall upon me
when I will splinter, fracture, dismantle
fray away my torn edges and be free
of the darkness within, and I will see.

The moon’s slither is my solace of thought
only she has seen what lays behind lost eyes
A beacon within the vast emptiness
a bearer of secrets, a trust forever sought.

Her love is unconditional I speak she listens
Tears wept in the yearned for silence of night,
crumbling, retched belief less glistened
where once the fires of hell had risen.

When danmed the touch was at least honest, true
no pretence within the battle cries,
T’is true, I’ve known love never, less too
and trusted even fewer then few.

But hope is a single ray of light in dark
and one day beneath a field of stars
She will turn, to him, a friend and love
and whisper, let me tell you of these scars…

…and I realise that one day I will fall apart
splinter,
fracture,
reveal the dark…

Karen Hayward ©2019

Image via Google search

Sleep…

Sleep seems to evade me lately like the plague,
my dreams cloaked in darkness and vague.
But i’m still standing,
And landing,
On my own two feet,
And from here,
Deep in the depths of despair,
I can hear my beat,
Calling my name,
pushing me on,
Always the same,
Every path has a reason,
Keep going through the seasons,
Every fight,
Will eventually bring light.
Believe in yourself,
Believe you are right,
And
In the
Darkness
Of the
Night
Awake and alone,
Know you were dreaming
Of your future throne.

Karen Hayward ©201