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August 10, 2021

Sometimes – I just – don’t - know –
Do I love you? – Or, do I hate you?
I don’t know.
Maybe it’s somewhere in-between.
Maybe – it’s some of both.

The cruelness of your nothingness
Leaves me full of emptiness and sadness –
Yet fuels a raging fire of furiousness.
Your cruel silence – you dangle and taunt
Like contraband you flagrantly flaunt.

I don’t know what am I supposed to do?
Just slink away and shut the fuck up?
Or stand my ground and then fuck it up?
Like I seem to – time and time again.
But it’s so hard, fighting against this pain.

I try to wear a brave face of indifference
To hide my sufferance and avoid interference
So I wipe away the tears and slap on a smile
It’s a game I can - play for a little while.
Like hide and seek, you won’t find the real me.

It’s like standing in a battle ground with spent shells and mortar
You aim my way I’m told to just take my torture.
When did all this shit begin?
It’s taking its toll, it’s wearing thin.
This is a battle neither one of us can win.

I ask around to find answers to how and why
Shrugged shoulders and mumbles are the stock reply
Whispers I had said something to cause offense
But I am not allowed to ask and offer my defence
So I stand here and take shot after every shot.

And just when I think I am being brave
And it’s safe to stand up and expose my face
Bullets and bombs bear down to keep me in my place.
Broadsided by a barrage of revelations
Sad but beautiful beginnings but not for shared celebrations.

I was helping a young girl – seventeen!
Frightened – afraid of her father, says she ‘unclean’
You can’t draw comparison – there is no parallel
Seventeen has reason for hate, hurt, despair and grief
The way you shut me out is shameless in disbelief.

Don’t misunderstand me, not trying to revise.
And I am not trying to mock or trivialise
But I need to be allowed to give voice, give word
Truth, I fell, gets shifted – the edges get blurred.
I’m just trying to make sense of all I’ve heard.

I am tired – I am just so bloody tired!
I’m kept in the dark only told what’s required
I’m not informed of any life events.
In conversation its dodged and weaved and circumvents.
I am weary, broken and losing all common sense.

My memories go back to thoughts of happy days
Sharing, reminiscing over brunch in cafes.
Laughing and singing as we shared the same song
was it ever real or is my memory all wrong.
Fleeting blissful moments, long, long gone. 


Not sure when I wrote this, but at a guess probably around 2016 – for reference ‘17’ refers to a young girl that rang me at work, terrorised by her father and mother. She was 100% frightened – this is not my best piece, but it came from another dark moment when I felt lost, alone, angry and bitter, yet slightly hopeful. Though that may not be apparent here!

Louise Goodwin



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