My Demon

 

From a deep dark event,

Some years in the past,

I’ve been left with a pain,

That forever will last.

 

No known analgesia,

Will help with my plight,

All I can do,

Is learn how to fight!

 

Most days I can,

Keep my daemon in line,

But now an again,

He takes all that is mine.

 

Spilling out in a torrent,

Of emotion and tears,

Leaving me broken and empty,

Revealing all of my fears.

 

I usually sit working,

Taking in all from outside,

About the price of a coffee or sweet,

Then conversations subside.

 

For deep down inside me,

Something bubbles away,

Please don’t ask how it happens,

I can’t usually say.

 

But something has sent me,

A word, jibe or chore,

Sent me over the edge,

So I can’t take anymore!

 

Each day is a struggle,

To keep my balance just right,

What I know I must do,

With what I think is right.

 

In the office I usually,

Keep my crazy suppressed,

Just smile laugh and chat,

For I know that is best.

 

Yet sometimes I just want to,

Scream at the top of my voice,

“I’m not coping today”,

But I haven’t that choice.

 

Keep it under control,

At least while at work,

Just get on with my tasks,

Let my daemon just lurk.

 

For he is always there,

Just waiting to tip,

The balance of my mind,

Making my sanity slip.

 

He’s fed off me now,

#for such a very long time,

He knows all my fears,

How to keep me in line.

 

While I think I control him,

He just laughs at my plight,

Taking over my mind,

With all of his might.

 

Then like a wave of destruction,

He’s inside my head,

From the time that I wake up,

Until I lay in me bed.

 

Taking all of my dreams,

Just to keep me awake,

Then picking at me all day,

Until I snap and just break!

 

The pressure keeps building,

Rising up in my mind,

Like a sink over-flowing,

My true me has turned blind.

 

I sit and say nothing,

Of how I cannot cope,

All I can do now,

Is keep working and hope.

 

When I get home I release,

Emotions spill from my form,

Mummy ranting each day,

Is sadly becoming the ‘norm’.

 

My little boys have seen it,

So many times before,

It scared them a few times,

But not anymore.

 

They’re immune to it now,

Numbed by the previous times,

When I vented at family,

Rubbished all that is mine.

 

So when I sit and look sad,

Or say I’m having a day,

Please don’t roll your eyes,

Turn and walk away.

 

I’m not asking for sympathy,

Please don’t get me wrong,

An understanding of me,

Then we will get along.

 

Just know it’s not choice,

That has made me this way,

It’s from too many years,

Keeping my daemon at bay.

 

By Becky Clemett - 2012

Wrong

 

Windows to my soul close,

But still I see it all,

Over and over again in plays,

Making my mind fall.

 

I smell your rancid smoke,

So heavy and so stale,

Choking on the very thought,

It makes my young face pale.

 

I feel the weight if your arms,

Wrap around my tiny frame,

The memory takes control of me,

I’m vulnerable again.

 

You forced your old face, into my own,

Making me inhale that smell,

Embracing me so tightly now,

You create my living hell.

 

Your lips are wet and wanting,

You’re forcing hem on me,

That reek still makes me nauseous,

When will you let me be?

 

Day after day it is the same,

Pictures play on in my head,

Invading my subconsciousness,

While I try to sleep in bed.

 

His invasion of my body,

The stench of his foul breath,

How he made me feel so sick,

Made me wish each time for death.

 

In these moments I am spiralling,

I can see no way out,

My head is becoming all consumed,

I feel the need to shout.

 

Just before the worst part,

And before I can ask why?

I’m awake and in my bedroom,

Trying not to cry.

 

You continue to invade me,

Although you’re dead and gone,

I’m older now and know for sure,

What you did to me was wrong!

 

By Becky Clemett - 5^th May 2018.

Gorging

 

You beckoned me to you,

Made me feel I was someone,

Then used this to abuse me,

It was your macabre fun.

 

I’d trusted you completely,

Like any small child would,

You rubbed my nose in my faith,

Defiled me as you could.

 

Each time it just got worse,

‘Til you were blatant in the act,

Saying to everyone, she wants to eat,

Of course they all took that as fact.

 

It allowed you to keep calling me,

Everyone laughed – All they could see,

Was me coming in, plates full of food,

After you’d just abused me.

 

So I’d eat until I felt sick,

To rid my mouth of your foul being,

Then expel it from my body,

Without my parents seeing.

 

You didn’t give a damn!

Told me that you really cared,

And if I told who would believe?

Leaving me broken and so scared.

 

So now whenever I am stressed,

And can’t cope with the day,

I gorge again but without the purge,

Sadly, that’s just my way.

 

By Becky Clemett - 22^nd June 2018.

The Future

 

The dark shadow,

Lingers in her life.

It cowers in corners,

Watches her every move.

 

Dare she question its action?

It sweeps at her,

With forked tongue and colourless eyes.

He does not care for her.

 

Once she was everything,

His life, love and flesh.

Now she repulses his ghoulish form.

Intimidating eyes,

Rip life from her heart,

Leaving it bleeding yet full of love.

 

She does not see,

She affects him, makes him self-conscious,

He begins to ooze his true form,

‘Keep on’, she wishes, ‘Let them know’.

 

She does not realise,

Everyone already knows.

Watching the dark shadow,

Is her past loves and future dreams.

 

He is under a watchful eye,

Constantly he will be plagued.

In his mind, lost offspring play games,

Tell tales that make his rage soar.

 

Soon he will explode,

Then all will be over.

The dark shadow that engulfs her life,

Veils her soul, it will be lost.

 

No longer will she intimidate,

With clear eyes,

The ghoulish form will lie still,

For once she will have her say.

 

By Becky Clemett - 14^th October 1997

Apology

 

Roar eyes tell the truth waterfalls flow freely,

No respect for pride.

A strong outer shell,

Cracks after hours.

Poisoned words fell out of a troubled frame.

 

Leaving the taste of revenge,

Directed to the innocent one.

They penetrate the heart,

With flaming arrows.

 

Roar eyes once bright,

Look at a new world,

Anger and frustration leave a loving body.

Shocks leave signs of a struggle,

The wrong one has gained strength.

 

Consuming a confused mind,

It controls breath and thoughts.

Knowing prosecution of the wrong took place,

Yet doing nothing.

Trust is no longer there,

Rumours make for extra pressures.

 

If only it had been clear from the very start,

It could have been made right.

Now it’s too late, pride melts from a pale face,

No consuming occurs.

 

Survival will be hard,

It must be endured.

Little things cannot make your heart sing.

This time heart strings play the blues,

One little word so weak now is pushed forward;

It will not change fate,

All it does is heat angers to boiling.

 

In the beginning it was much stronger,

Now suspended at the end of a long affair;

It hangs between present and future,

Looking pathetic it has fallen in favour of one.

Leaving the pale skeleton to mumble with jumpy voice,

Joining raspy breath,

Taking one final glance at the sunny side.

 

By Becky Clemett - 23rd November 1997

Damned

 

Every face in the world,

Hides so many home truths.

Mirrored windows cry for them,

Blurring the world’s eyes so they no longer see.

Soft words breeze over chilled ears,

Burning warmth from a hidden source of life.

Her eyes so watery they sparkle,

Attractive to some people, to her hopeless.

 

Eyes are sea like,

Pressure builds on her shoulders,

Bending and twisting her spine.

The cracked pavement,

Catches her eyes,

Will the cracks ever open?

Allowing her to be devoured.

 

The cracks on the pavement,

Showing so many years of wear.

Still so young yet looking so used,

They could just open to encase a body.

Entrapping it for years, it scares her!

 

Her darker side,

Knows more secrets than mortals.

Subconsciously she knows she has done wrong.

Ear piercing cries from pasty dealings,

Leave blood still on her hands, vomit in her throat.

 

New identity; hair, eyes and figure,

Hides her form from pressures for now.

She can never hide from herself,

Every mirror turns red with shame.

She will never be free,

Even living a life of lies.

 

One day the cracks will open,

The solid pavement will dissolve.

Leaving her falling and burning,

Until she reaches the bottom.

 

By Becky Clemett - 29^th November 1997

Honestly

 

Blurred eyes,

Stare across millions of miles.

Each wrinkle on the happy face of a child,

Or a wise grandmother,

Tells a different tale.

 

For every face to be the same,

She must have only one on her mind.

Cool eyes that take her to a quiet place,

Dreamily hypnotised her into his arms.

 

Once she is safely wrapped,

In his iron embrace.

Intoxicating aftershave,

Brings her further to his being.

 

Brown hair soft as a baby bird,

It cannot be normal or boring.

There is too much warmth,

It encloses his love.

 

Trapped within his body,

Lies, hopes, dreams and fears.

To others there is nothing,

Only a plain exterior.

 

The eyes are windows,

To his true personality.

Encased in a cotton wool dream,

To look carefully would open a whole new world.

 

A world of wonder and excitement,

His world of dreams.

They are so real,

Everyone who sees can believe.

 

But not everyone has the blurred eye,

The pounding chest and understanding.

So many branches spread from him,

Yet there is darkness at the end of every tunnel.

 

Breath catches as fire in his throat,

A sensation of pressure crushing his chest.

There is no air to breathe,

Soon he will see the one with the blurred eye for him.

 

Who shares dreams yet,

Wanders through meadows alone.

She will find him and help to fulfil dreams,

Honestly!

 

By Becky Clemett - 1^st December 1997

Pain

 

Rain droplets burn as they pierce her summer flesh,

Icy tracks take gouges of flesh out.

To help rid her of her sunshine face,

Leaving only pale, painful patches of grey.

 

Lamps glue her eyes shut,

Steaming liquid helps her breath.

A wrap of wool makes blocks melt,

Fires begin again in her soul.

 

So much care is taken,

Everything has to be right.

Just the right temperature,

Then she can begin.

 

Huge bottle lids remain closed,

Why can’t they just open themselves?

White circles fall into her hand,

Two at a time every time!

 

When will it ever end?

As long as she needs them,

It will always be.

Day after day always the same,

Icy breezes that freeze the land,

Also freeze her.

 

Oils will work although none do,

Everyone has lied to her.

Nothing will ever take away the agony,

It has just grown too big.

 

No longer do pounding heads,

Aching stomachs or colds plague her.

Now and forever, there will always be;

Aching bones, flesh and muscles,

Sagging lips with closed eyes.

 

Eyes and ears fail,

Hands bleed but no cells are formed.

Constant attention is needed,

No one is willing to help it is solitary agony.

 

By Becky Clemett - 20^th December 1997

Campaign

 

Ignore it, then it will melt away,

Deny all knowledge of such trauma.

Quote sentences that are false to the tongue,

They will fall onto absorbing ears.

 

As time passes blame age and weight,

The truth is not known by the majority.

Never admit failure or illness,

Say nothing is wrong.

 

People will know themselves as time passes,

It only happens over fifty will die out.

Every eye will be washed of the flickering lies,

Soon every one will see the truth.

 

The suffering of old conceals that of youth,

No one seems to care about them.

The new generation is also affected,

Not just pain and burning spines, loss of face and form.

 

Outcast from ‘norms’ hidden in dark corners,

No one ever sees the plight of young ones.

Advertising wraps every mind,

Even the suffering young believe.

 

There is a way to change all this,

No more hiding and weeping alone.

Stand on all legs needed,

Be straight and tall as you can but never give in!

 

By Becky Clemett - 29^th January 1998

Constantly

 

Ringing through my mind,

Shaking round my head.

The buzz of pain,

The hum of unconsciousness.

 

So intense my senses fail,

My body collapses in a heap.

Bones crack under pressure,

Then swell for support.

 

Bruises and grazes,

Roll over my body.

As the pain lingers on,

Trapped inside my limbs.

 

To drill a hole at the edge,

May allow the pain to run out;

Making me ‘normal’ again,

Until then it stays.

 

By Becky Clemett - 25^th January 1998

Past Life

 

Anguish and pain,

Builds in my sockets.

Eventually rivers of pain,

Will flow freely down my rosy reds.

 

Dark clouds of the past,

Cover my all-seeing windows.

Engulfing my senses,

In a treacle-like memory.

 

Brief intervals of truth,

Pierce holes in the cushioned shadow.

Allowing life giving light,

To flow through into an abyss.

 

Are they enough to regain mortality?

Do they just mask fate.

Will nothing bring back true face,

The pirouette figurine will remain,

Until the time arrives,

All will stay in animated ‘still life’.

 

Opposite of ink spots,

The splodges of reality,

May never be forceful,

Breaking the long suspension of life,

Is never easily accomplished.

 

Life will remain jelly-like,

For as long as denial is strengthening.

Breaking the sticky molecules of the future,

Creates a roar exposed soul.

Is to deny and live for yesterday’s sky.

Rather than face the burning sun,

Of a new morning.

 

By Becky Clemett - 10^th August 1998

Talk

 

Kidding your senses,

Thinking revenge.

Fooling us children,

Right ‘til the end.

 

Telling us you’re fine,

Living by day.

Should have heard you cry,

As in bed you lay.

 

Silently hurting inside,

Why didn’t you say so?

Weeping with wounds wide,

How were we to know?

 

Thinking you’re alright,

Saying you’re so strong;

Talking of your fight,

We all knew you were wrong!

 

Now at last,

The truth is free,

Realisation flows fast,

Between you, the girls and me!

 

By Becky Clemett - 26^th April 1999

Lone Voice

 

The lone voice,

Catches in a mesh mind.

Filters through every alcove,

Of open thoughts.

 

Residing alone at the back,

Kept out of sight.

Not to mingle with friends,

In daily body movements.

 

All night, sitting alone,

The voice travels forward.

Consuming every thought,

Pulling at heart strings.

 

Visualise dance around the room,

Daydreaming like a puppy.

Hunger for reality,

Starvation of truth.

 

Angelic features,

With unruly thoughts.

Burning while enclosed,

By foam and fabric.

 

A need arises to clean the mind,

Banish forever the lone lingering voice.

Leaving behind a refreshing look,

At what might have been.

 

By Becky Clemett - 5^th May 1999

The Dark

 

The night was dark,

Wild wind whistling,

From outside my window,

Dark trees were listening.

 

Out of the haze,

Caused by a cruel cold chill,

Came a large black figure,

As tall as a hill.

 

He strode to my window,

Emerald eyes eagerly stare,

Straight through my body,

As though I’m not there.

 

Large nostrils pulsate,

Rancid rings make me retch,

It’s bony hands clench,

Then suddenly stretch.

 

Exposing long fingernails,

Sharp, silver spines,

They scratch through my ears,

Wrap around me like twine.

 

I lay in my bed,

I’m frozen by fear,

I look to the window,

My vision is clear.

 

The figure had gone,

Disappeared into the dark,

It ran up the street,

Then over the park.

 

The strands of warm sunlight,

Golden, glide gracefully in,

Awakening my mind,

Washing all fear from my skin.

 

By Becky Clemett – 28^th December 2005