Tag Archives: Pain

Sick and Tired


Sick & tired

I’m sick & tired of being poor,

I’m sick & tired of being beaten-up and shown the floor,

I’m sick & tired of not having enough food,

I’m sick & tired for always asking for more,

I’m sick & tired of all of these doctors’ meds,

I’m sick & tired of these voices in my head,

I’m sick & tired of my job,

I’m sick & tired of living for less in this mess,

I’m sick & tired of my past,

I’m sick & tired of always coming in last,

I’m already sick & tired of my future,

I’m sick & tired of being white trash,

I’m sick & tired of not being a writer,

I’m sick & tired of having to be a fighter,

I’m sick & tired of having no views,

I’m sick & tired of being a live-wire,

I’m sick & tired of my evil deeds,

I’m sick & tired of no one dreaming of me,

I’m sick & tired of being sick & tired,

It’s worse than you know, believe me.

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The Mother – Fight for the Kids


Hello dear readers, this is the roughly based story around my mothers struggle when we were kids. It is a follow on from the story “The Mother – Domestic Violence” (LINK IS BELOW)

She is the strongest person I know and I believe her story should be told to inspire and show what she has been through.

The Mother – Fight for the Kids

Slick to her core, empathy of love no longer lives in her body. Disassemble heart and box it back up, consciousness will be her dancing partner tonight. Her wisdom and keen eyes have kicked into focus all the tricks she is pulling.

Rushing from the fear of what he could do to her, looking over her shoulder her head and thoughts seems loose. As a nightmare he may jump out from a bush or turn a corner and drag her back into the depths of the shadows, trapped forever without a voice. She has already taken the first step to freedom; no longer will she look back and plead for a breath. Will a cluster of kids and the rustles of plastic bin bags, keeping it all together is all she has to contend with in this battle.

“C’mon guys, keep up; we’re almost there.” She delivers with quivering warm tone. Her watered up eyes quickly find a vent as she looks up to the heavens for a morsel of strength.

“Where’re we going?” Inquisitive Stephen pipes up, he was the smallest of the three but the others knew he was the smartest with his mind, when everyone talked he hung upon every word and took in everything as a sponge does. He was a Sagittarius; I know he has a side to him that he is not showing.

“We’re going to your Uncle Jay’s for a few nights.” The close air and emotional sniffles clams up her voice.

“What about all of our toys and the television?” The young one gargles his thoughts.

Sandie stops, dropping bags and kneeling down to his level. He sees the distress in her eyes but he over look it with a cunning grim smile; the other two toddle off slowly down the street.

“Stephen listen to me, I know you know there is more to all of this than the other two do. I am leaving your father; he is not a nice person to me and I cannot take it any longer. So if you were to look out for the other two, you would be helping me out so much.” A tear drips straight from her eyelid.

“I know I don’t like it when he hits you, I don’t like to see you crying; it makes me cry. The next time he tries to hit you, I will hit him and then he will stop.” Sandie could not believe what her youngest has just declared. She wraps her arms around him and keeps the flood of tears behind her squeezed eyes.

“One day I will kill him for you Ma’.” She faces up to him. “No, you do not talk like that, ever. I need you to be strong and keep all that anger inside and never show it; this is my fight for you all. Now c’mon, it just around this corner.”

The youngster takes hold of a bag, slightly dragging it across the floor while he holds onto her hand. The other two have a race back.

They arrive at the door step of Uncle Jay’s, she opens the door and shuffles the rambunctious kids in; at that instance a car swerves around the corner and mounts the curb, the door flings open and out steps her devastator, the children’s father. She stands tough but trembling inside, she chucks the bin bags through the doorway.

“You think you can just leave me without a word and think I won’t come take my kids off ya’!” He storms in his macho voice. His thunderous rumbling stampedes closer to her.

“You can hit me as much as you want, we are done with you; you don’t deserve to be a father!” She charges at him with her hands out, he hurtles for her, his fists at the ready to give her the only kiss he knows how to give her.

She scratches and he swings, the dance could lead to murder; neither backing down.

“Mom!” Is that Stephens voice or was it a daze spell from this kafuffle. She lets down her guard and spins around, out of breath. The next thing, she feels the need to lie down; he had sucker punched her from behind.

“Steve, come to me mate. We’re going home.” He takes a couple of steps forward towards the youngster with his hand open for a clamp. Sandie tries wafting him away, her voice was broken.

Young Stephen walks over to him, shooting evil from his eyes he peers up at this towering man.

“If you touch my Ma’ again I am going to stab you in you in your sleep, we don’t want you here; you can have the television as your new family. I am going to be a grown-up soon and as soon as I do I am going to hit you for hitting our Mam.” The young kid stands in front of his damaged mother.

The bully pockets his hands; Uncle Jay comes to the door with the other two kids. Dad frantically walks to his car and wheel spins away. Never to be seen again by the children.

Young Stephen tries his hardest to help his mother up. Uncle Jay runs over to aid his sister.

“Steve, go inside buddy.” Stephen totters off. “Sandie, what the hell has happened?” He stammers with worry.

“I did it. I left him finally; I had to think of the kids and what they would have turn out as if I stayed. They could have seen him murder me.”

They enter through the door; she is picked up and carried off into the back of the living room.

“Kids give you Mam some space, okay. I canny’ believe little Steve stood up for him, the kid has some major guts.”

She shoots off into day-dream land.

“Yeah, I am going to have to keep an eye out for him, he has a knack for being a hero and not thinking of the consequences.”

As the three played cards on Uncle Jays gigantic glass table, Young Stephen stares over with hollow eyes.

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Medicine Time!! My World is Sick


Life forwardThe walls are closing in on me, time to expand my mind again; my last defence against the grim pace of life. I have finally put the knife down and picked up a pen and a handful of pills, cracking open my skull and throwing my brains at the paper, so this world can call my writings masterpieces. This master of writing is laid in pieces, broken and sobbing naked in the corners of the living-room, hiding from the knocks of the door, rocking backing forth.

martin

I can be a pain killer,

Now watch me grill-up these chickens,

Wherever I be, weed suspicions be in us,

It’s a lot me similar to David and Goliath proportions,

Saving Private Problems,

Raging rhyming destroyer,

Wait until I get hold of,

All this weight I hold on my shoulders,

My soul dominates these golden-gates,

So…. Game over!

Courage and Knowledge mix with hate is a bonus,

Anticipate for another brain donor,

I should just escape to my other persona,

Cause I do love no one,

The world is sick,

Time to give it its medication,

Red ribbon wrapped with exhilaration,

Reward myself, a pill I page in,

Suppose to look after this commonwealth,

And still I am a patient.

Stick to what you know, so I am glued to this pen and paper and surrounded myself with memory photos of pain. I am not sure if these feverish tablets are making me sweat, or if I am crying; still not sure.  Tomorrow I will be less of the same man! I can’t handle the wobble of sanity, my fingertips grip on the verge; I will plummet into insanity with my arms wide open and be engulfed into the darkness. Here we go again!

dansh-raza-triumph-of-evil-2011-pen-and-digital-print-on-paper-11in-x-8-5in

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My True Love – Story By Alex Kennedy


car accident

My True Love

There was an accident; I just got the phone call. I run and I run and run past my lungs threshold, she is all I care about. Bypassing people’s thoughts as I sprint to her in the middle of the road, stopping traffic in its footsteps. The rain is against me, stings and pinpricks on my skin, the raindrops cover my tears as it washes away my hurt. Unnoticed to the beeps, finger gestures and vulgar language, none of that matters, only her. I live for her and I said I would die for her, will it come to either? Please, Lord, do not take her… She has saved me over and over again. I can hear the sirens; they are like gunshots to my ears, my heartbeats circulates my body unknowing in which way to turn, I can feel it in every limb that moves towards her, each step is one more closer.

I try not to think into what has happened, but my heart is tangled up within my imagination. Laid crippled and knotted, faceless and memory-less of us or vehicle impaled, taken by someone’s concentration. I can finally see the flashing lights and emergency personnel. I stop my raging feet and bring myself to the walk of concern, my fingers keep grip to the phone that had imprinted this thought upon me.

The police are not letting anyone have their eyes nightmare clenched; I cannot see anything as an ambulance is blocking mine and her fate. I climb over a police cars bonnet, vigilant to their sight, just to gain a look. I do not want to miss you, it took me years to find and keep what we have. A car lies on its side, broken and no longer road worthy; its underneath faces my way, paramedics kneel around the roof, running back and forth from the ambulance to get supplies. I walk into the unknown with a heavy tears and heart with a quivering lip. She is pinned under the car, the pain emulates from her in screams.

I stand unmoved, what do I do? She sees me finally, within that first second no time passed.

She raises her shaking arm, holding out her hand for me. I rush over and take hold of her invitation. It is hard for her to breathe, taking big gulps of whatever air she can take in. I brush her hair to the side, just so I can get to see my love. We both share in the moment a smile, no words, unable to speak; the shock must have hit us both. Just hold on to me. She turns her head away from me; she does not want to look at me… Have I done something wrong? Is she mad at herself because of this situation? I take my wet index finger and place it around her chin and turn her back to me to let her know I am here forever with her. She gives me that look, the one I wake to every morning. I bow down and kiss her for aslong as possible. A hand on my shoulder, a police officer picks me up and tries to usher me away from my destiny. I rip and thrash, all I want is to be with her.

She screams I can feel it in the pit of my stomach; this is not a scream for me but a personal one. The pain must be gnawing its way through her. No one is doing anything, no one. The police stop their job, the paramedics take over my position. I see through a slight opening between two medics her face, she needs me, more now than ever. If she is mine, this is my test. I slip away from the policeman’s hold to the car, one final glance; I squat down and reach my fingers under the car. It will not take her from me; I begin to pull up with all my strength, bear my teeth. I want to see her again, raise our children together, kiss her before I go to work, spend another valentines day with her, put a padlock on her finger, not visit a grave stone every year, stare out my window for days, cry myself to sleep, have to move on to second best, No… never.

I let out an almighty roar that would bring a battlefield full of one hundred thousand solders to pain I will feel if I lose her. I will stand up, I will and I will take this pain from her, even if that means cursing it upon me. I exhale all of my air, the car begins to lift. I must take this throbbing within my arms for her sake. I straighten my legs and back, she is my one, keep elevating, the car is off the ground leveled with my chest. I turn my head, my neck is stiff. The medics pull her from the wreckage and are able to attach and inject the proper equipment and medicines.

Your love makes me stronger, the man I am, more than I was, this is for you. I jump back from the death-dealing machine; it falls with more of its shell being broken.

I turn with a smile, her eyes have closed, no movement. They put her on a stretcher and load her onto another bed and head for the closed ambulance, the doors are wide opened they are trying to make her breath, pressing down on her chest five at a time then breathing the air back into her.

They stop, unable to do more. No… I will not have that, you cannot just give up on her because she is unresponsive, she usually acts that way it is a trick she likes to play. The world has stopped completely, I run over to the ambulance and climb in, they try to fight me off, but I am not that easy to stop in my tracks for something I want, ask her. I push them out of my way and bend down and pick up her head and lay my lips to hers.

The ambulance begins to quake, medical objects falls from their place, the doors begins to throw open and close again, there is a light that could outshine the suns rays. Her eyes shoot open as she takes her first gasp of air and another until she is settled and coherent. She smile at me that way again, I mirror her back as she pulls me into another kiss, this must be a thank you but in true fact it is me who should be thanking you, my love.

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