Tentacles of cling film

(September 2011)

I am so angry.
So very very angry.
So so angry

I carry out boxing exercises,
imagine beating your face,
breaking your nose.

Teaching someone – me – how to be afraid
afraid – afraid – afraid
is not a nice thing to do.

You wrapped your cling film tentacles
around my throat,
around the throat of my life.

You robbed me
of all my air,
of all my oxygen.

And I hate you
hate you – hate you – hate you –
hate that.

My anger
has nowhere
to go.

It punches air.
It flows into fairy tales.
I am powerless.

Because I am
nothing but a woman
and that, they say, means I don’t count.

My head pounds
and my fists fly
against the air

You sucked from my lungs,
you sucked from my days,
you sucked from my future.

Now I feel better
because voicing my anger
any way

is better
than the silence
wrapped within your cling film.

Your butt crack
is not
my punch line.

It’s yours,
and yours
alone.

You.
Took Joy
and killed her.

You killed her,
killed her killed her
killed her dead.

Still I wish
I wish I wish you
well.

Though your
stone tone
death.

~~~~~

I wrote this in 2011, after having been pursued for years by two British individuals (though up to the end of 2010, I was only aware of one of them; while the other one had popped up on my doorstep one day in 2008, I was unaware of his connection to all of this at the time and he was a complete stranger at that point).

The last line is a phonetic word play. Pronounce it and you will hear “tone deaf” and “stone deaf” and you’ll see the deliberate spelling error in “your”.

What else can you do with this kind of situation in which you are utterly powerless than at least try to do something mildly creative with it?

It is part of my booklet “Crunchy Peanuts“, which I took offline for a while because of its very negative tone, but it reflects a very negative situation, so has a high level of pure truth.

(It’s 2019 now… and this stuff is STILL going on, as you can see in some of my other posts.)

 

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