The Poem

The body  of a child,


Ripped, torn and beaten.

You think it was

So mild.

Tripped, worn and eaten

Up, like dinner

Served to the winner.

Prized, praised, pretty and primped.

Lies, laid, little and limp.

Promised, plied, played and pimped.

That child,


Taste the bile,

 All the while,

Stick to your style

You vile

Piece of shit.

Musings at the Laundromat


 I’m sitting and watching the snow reduce itself to a massive watery mess at the curbside.  The sun is slanted sideways through the evening sky shining directly upon my face through the dusty window.  I feel the warmth of that solar power warm my skin.  It helps to keep my bitter coffee from cooling down as its aroma fills my lungs.  I feel a longing inside.

                The song I hear, speaking words of loss and loneliness.  I wonder what the days ahead hold in store for me.  A bag sits in front of me made of the recycled bits of our past.  That plastic pill holder you threw out, the casing of a syringe from the pharmacy, the bottle of booze in the gutter.  Is that what went into the making of this bag?  I think maybe we’re all made of recycled bits of our parents.  Enmeshed, mingled, molded into something new and perhaps not so different.  After going through the crushing and grinding, heating, cleansing we are then spit out in our current shape.  Or maybe we’re quite different in our new shiny form.  We were made for an alternate purpose, mistakenly placed amidst the hell that we suffered.  Yes that’s it.  It must have been some universal glitch.  Surely it wasn’t meant to be this way.  For whatever a believer believes in, a divinity of such cruelty should not be allowed to exist.

A Broader Introduction

I am living in a very cold place.  I don’t mean that figuratively.  I mean literally a cold place.  It’s currently -14 degrees Celsius with a windchill of -25.  It has warmed up a little.  This place is not my original home, though I have managed to make it feel like home now.  I have been here for a little over two years.  My wife and I moved here with 5 days notice.  We packed up our lovely 2 bedroom apartment in a 19′ moving truck and put the fur babies (2 cats, 1 dog) in the car and hit the open road for two days. it sounds like an interesting adventure doesn’t it?  The truth was, we were scared out of our freaking minds. Neither of us knew what the hell we were getting ourselves into.  No job lined up, no home, no friends or family.  What would become of us? But we were running for our safety, running for our well being, running for our lives!

I was abused by my uncle since the age of 3 or 4.  He belonged to a group of men that exchanged children to be used as play things.  We were objects, pawns in a game meant only to satisfy whatever twisted, sadistic needs they had.  There were some women involved too, though they weren’t major contributors.  Women were beneath them.

When I went into counselling at the end of 2007 it was to deal with anxiety and depression that were interfering with my work life and personal life.  It was through the process of self discovery that memories bagan to emerge.  It’s a long ongoing saga but the point is that once it became clear to my uncle and his freinds that I was talking they began to apply pressure. My abuse was ongoing unbeknownst to me in the beginning of counselling.  eventually I was able to connect to those parts of me that held the abusive content.  As a customer service specialist in a big box store I had to deal with people all the time.  These men began to harass me at work on a weekly basis.  This escalated to the point in which I was sexually assaulted in a locked bathroom at work and also being attacked in my own home.  Numerous threats were made against my wife as well. These assaults were revealed to my wife in a counselling session where the social worker said enough is enough.  We need to get you out of here and safe now.  So the planning began and 5 days later I was living in a homeless shelter in a new city.

I guess I don’t really have a point in telling you all of this.  I just felt that I’d let you all get to know me a little better. What my history involves.  I’m not really telling it right.  You see,, this is the problem.  I rattle on about things while I’m completely devoid of human emotion.  This was a very big deal and it affected my life greatly.  I don’t think that’s getting across.  I can feel that my writing doesn’t contain any feeling.  Perhaps I’ll just leave you with a little piece of writing.

Have a good night.

Mind is racing, child’s bracing for the night to come.

She try’s to think of things up a-bove so she doesn’t see.

Heart is pounding, thoughts are founding members of a club.

Stairs are creaking, life force leaking further from her grasp.

Memories forming.  All is storming.  Never will forget.

Though she hides it, ignores this one bit, she will soon grow up.

When this happens she will tell friends. Don’t believe a word.

My whole brain is stuck on all his crimes against this world.


I found something today that I wrote about 12 years ago.  Long before I had any clue that I was dissociative.  Or at least before I knew what to call the experiences that I have.  It held a lot of meaning for me back in those days but since realizing that I have parts it takes on even more.  I thought  some of you might be able to relate to it.  So here you go….


Okay…. Breathe. That’s all that is required of you.  The rest will take care of itself.  Sitting alone tonight,

a few doors have strayed open in the emptiness and silence.  You say, I must fill it, I must avoid the void.

But bravery insists on trying to make a stand.  Go on, go ahead.  The dark is just a space waiting to see the light.

 Fall into it.  To fall is okay.  It’s the only way to learn how to fly.  Just feel the breeze.  The cool, dark air.

It’s there not to give you a chill.  It’s there to strip away your defenses.  It will work for you.  Let go of the edge.

 It’s much too dangerous to stay off-balance like that.  Choose to go over the edge.  There’s much more waiting there for you.

You’ve been on that side long enough.  You know it well.  You know it so well you will not forget it.  You will bring it with you.

 We all know living on the edge is bad for your health.  Most people think we should crawl back to safety.

You know you must leap out into the unknown.  It’s there just waiting for you.  You hear it calling, I know you do.

You see the water down there.  You see the reflection.  All those faces, that’s all they are.  Just reflections.

Memories of a time you lived through.  Remember those faces; remember you did LIVE through them.  You survived.

 You were afraid, you were sad, you were strong in your weakness.  You lived.  I’m so proud of those things.  You have experienced it

.  You’ve learned; you’ve faced it.  Now you can feel it.  The reflections on the water, they are on the surface down there.

When you dive in, they’re gone  You can’t see them from the other side.  From the underneath it is a beautiful, clear, sunny sky.

 But don’t worry .  Everyone can see the reflections.  And when they lean over the edge to see you dive in

and wonder how you can do that, they see their own reflection among all the others.  They SEE.

You can not hide from your reflection as they can not hide from their reflection. And the water brings a clarity.

 It is a clear vision into each of our souls.  |When you do right, your reflection shows.  And when you do wrong it remains.

They see, they know, they will not forget.  They have to face their own reflection.  You think your memory is so long.

 You think you can not escape your past.  You’re right.  The past is not a hindrance.  It does not now, nor will it ever

block your way to your present or your future.  It will carry you there.  It will boost you up on the shoulders of knowledge.

Forever building higher and higher.  Your memory is not long.  You don’t remember the tears rolling down your face.

 How those tears must make your eyes shine so bright.  Those eyes.  How they’ve shown you so much.  Those eyes,

how they connect right to your heart.  This heart that carries so much weight.  It must be awfully strong by now.

It must be so ready to start feeling all that your eyes have shown it.  How lucky you are.  Those tears that you knew before.

 Before you turned to hang onto the edge.  They are still there.  They fell into the water.  They are there waiting for you.

 They are there to help you and cushion your fall.  That’s why the reflections show in them.  Go to them.  Your hands must be so tired.

 So sore and scarred from hanging onto that edge.  Go find your tears in the water down there.

Dive in. Let go.  Fall.

Okay……. breathe.