Not so tough.

You… were a dick.
But you had one hell of a bike
and I could not resist.
Custom built, need I say more!
You parked it up outside my door.
But, you, was a dick.
Parading me round like a trophy,
Your very own gothic.
You had a thing for tights,
fires and romantic lights.
And girls.
You were a tart
and by God could you play that part.
I soon bored of the bike and the clubs,
and the grown up pubs.
You weren’t so hard or rough,
in your leather jacket
my Dad even laughed and told you tough,
as you cried and you cried
and questioned why.
Because, you, were a dick.
But you had one hell of a bike,
and I simply could not resist.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Silence in the Chaos.

In the silence I found strength hidden beneath chaos

waiting to be discovered. I greeted her like an old friend

and asked her of her tales. She told me of a girl that shone

so bright, she lit up the darkest nights. She showed me images

of a girl that had loved herself so deeply that it spilled out

over the edges and infected those around her. She asked what I

recalled of those starless nights, and I replied, ‘Nothing.’

Sometimes when no one is around, she whispers

memories into my mind, lighting flames that had

long gone out. And when I asked her why does she stay,

she simply whispered back,

‘To wake you, remember, remember who you are, remember.’

In the silence, I found strength hidden beneath chaos,

waiting there for me to remember.

A crossroad of destruction.

I’ve not a single idea,
Of what comes next.
No detailed plan,
Or future dream,
I have nothing
It seems.
Two paths ahead,
Both waiting for me to walk them,
One filled with destruction, likely fuelled by vodka,
No strings and hapless misgivings.
The other is simple, and I am the prize, If I walk the path I will surely rise.
I don’t know who I am,
or what in this world I can become,
I never dreamt I could become someone.
I choose this path,
I don’t know where it leads,
But I know that it’s
What I need.
I might fail it,
I might nail it.
But, for the first time in my life,
I’d like to try.

My creation, my celebration.

Look up to the night sky.
That first star you see,
Is me,
It is my celebration,
My elation,
My fascination and my creation.
It shines brighter than the other stars,
because, I have come so far.
It glistens,
For all the times, it has listened.
It shines in my name,
A shrine,
Of my pain.
look up to glorious night skies,
And see that I am wise,
Beyond my years,
Beyond my tears,
Beyond my fears.
See through my eyes,
look up to
My
Night
Skies.