The Shed

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Mummy please...
Mummy please don't lock the door.
The anxiety grows inside me.
I know I have been here before. 
The smell of soil and potting,
The stench of old manure. 

I feel the darkness bite me,
Draw blood from frightened veins,
I scratch to stop me crying,
It helps to ease the pain. 
Space creeps tight around me,
squeezing out my breath. 

Perfectly perfumed petrol 
I gently take a sip,
I have been in here for ages, 
I drink a tiny bit. 
It stings and taste so nasty.
I know my life is shit. 

I know it's nighttime now
No darker than before,
I am colder now than ever,
My dress ripped from before. 
The cold it numbs my shoulder.
Dislocated as I fought.

It's easier just to let her.
Just let her lock the door.
Stay in here it's safer
Just don't wee on the floor. 
Mummy please...
Mummy please don't lock the door. 

🌷 (1)

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Wed 31st May 2017 16:35

Powerful, whether personal or not. It highlights that which is only too possible.

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Raj Ferds

Sat 20th May 2017 08:28

Very powerful Louise and excellent imagery.
Agree with Colin on his suggestion of TV scriopts.

Perhaps even a series of Podcasts!

Excellent work!!


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Colin Hill

Sat 20th May 2017 07:52

ditto the previous comments. I think I have said it before Louise, that you could develop your writing into TV scripts. Here's a link to the BBC Writers Room that might interest you:

just a thought but 'Perfectly perfumed petrol' is a bit of a gobful of p's. All the best,


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Paul Nunn

Sat 20th May 2017 07:33

This is an extremely thought provoking poem. I shudder at even the thought that someone might be going through this anguish! I hope it was conjured from your imagination Louise! I read it more than once... well written!

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Adriana de los Angeles Diaz Rizo

Fri 19th May 2017 20:56

wow, very strong message in this poem. I love how it is written from a child's perspective and how deeply it gets to you.

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