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I remain broken


Pretty pink.

Soft, baby pink.

Gentle, rose petal pink.

Full of love, heart shaped pink.

Lipstick for the ladies pink.

Sickly-sweet icing pink.

Prim and proper,

don’t get your dress dirty,






“You’re such a girl,” he jokes,

As I refuse the offer, of one of his, ‘smokes.’

His eyes alive with confidence as he inhales,

I look away shyly, examine my nails.

“I like it though,” he tells me in reassuring tones,

“You’re different to the other skirts,

They’re just flirting, frigid clones.”

I take the proffered beer bottle, wanting to impress,

 “I bet you give them all that line,” I reply with a touch of haughtiness.

“No honest, I love that you’re not false, not all taking and no give.

I also happen to think you’re cute.”

“Yeah right.”

“Yeah, too right.

I’m goin’ town tomorrow, you wanna come with?”

My eyebrows rise, “Like a date you mean?”

“Yes like a date.”

I don’t want to sound too keen,

So I sort of shrug my shoulders, “I suppose.”

Is all I say,

And take a mouthful of lager, which goes down the wrong way.

I cough and I splutter,

He must think I’m a nutter,

But the reality is,

I’m a naïve, unworldly, fair game kid,

Blind to a future that is so well hid.


Vodka fogged, the faces blur,

In this smoky, testosterone, upstairs room.

He sits beside me,

Large, strong fingers casually stroking my thigh.

His caress overly gentle,

Grating against the uneasy that is rising inside.


The clamour and crush of the common boutique classes,

Fashion seeking animals with carrier bag souls,

The keeping up with the Jones’s nation,

Scuttles and skippers,

Totters and twirls,

Exhibits and swanks,

Worries and zips,

Through this temple of acquisition.

The buzz and tingle of must have,

Tickles and pulls at my have not.

Hand in hand we dive in,

Swimming in an iridescent glow of fluorescent lighting.

His adult child plays my youth,

His adult pays my child.


To dare even a glance within this top end store,

Gives a charge of exhilaration I’ve not known before.

“I love this dress,” I sigh

“Try it on, I bet you’d look fly,”

I peek at the price and feel myself deflate,

“Let’s just get out of here, my funds aren’t that great.”

“No try it on.

Go on,

Don’t worry about the price,

I’d really like to treat you to something nice.”

“I can’t let you do that,” I say, but I so do want him to.

“Of course you can, and besides, I don’t want all the bros,

Thinkin’ I aint lookin’ after you.

If you’re gonna be my girl you’ve gotta look good,

I don’t want no one dissin me down in my hood.”


I submit,

I surrender,

Accept the offering,

This charity, this blessing, this gift that he is proffering.


Shoes are needed with the dress,

Without too much persuasion I acquiesce.

Jewellery and a purse to clutch,

Assurances that it’s not ‘too much’.


Blinkered naivety covers my eyes,

I remain oblivious to ‘the me’,

He buys.


Scour the void,

Take the hollow,

Rent the barren,

Absent the vacancy,

Burn the bleached achromatic.


Filth on me,

Foulness in me,

Unclean is me.


I am shamed,

I am guilty,

I am wronged,

I am worthless.


What they did to me,

I deserved.


So he takes me to a club,

A place called ‘The Hub’,

And shoulders we rub

With Footballers and stars from TV soaps.

And I feel so alive when he kisses and gropes

We meet his mate,

With his date,

Who’s a lot like me.

The drinks flow,


He’s all I see

And I feel,

Grown up.


The beat plays hard,

I drop my guard,

Another drink,

Another drink,

Another drink.


Flashing lights,

Flashing eyes,

Flashing smiles,

Flashing lies.


He kisses me hard,

I laugh.


“My turn?”

Asks his friend,

I don’t quite,


But his girl says, “Yes do,”

My fella does to,

And in this moment of fun,

When I should run,

When I should run.


I stay,

I play,

I kiss.


The squash of limbs against my sides,

As I sit pressed in,


Him and not him.

I perceive a shared glance.

The stroking of my thigh,

Turns to hardened squeeze.


So the following night I go round to his flat,

Were we sit, drink and chat,

He giggles on the fun that was had.


Says he likes when I’m bad.


He’s bought me a phone,

And before I can moan,

He reassures me, that it’s really for him.

That he bought on a whim,

So he can reach me whenever,

Coz now he’s my fella,

He wants me at his beck and call.


‘She’s no better than she should be.’


‘They’re all the same round here.’


‘Ten a penny slapper, dragged up without morals.’


‘Well what do these girls think is going to happen?’


‘If you dress and act like you’re ready for it, then you’re ready for it.’


‘Look like a tart and you’ll get treated like a tart.’


‘She’s gaggin’ for it.’


‘Like a bitch on heat.’


‘No one to blame but herself.’


I lie on my bed,

Thoughts of him fill my head,

Read again the last text from my man.

‘Alright sweet,

Sorry we can’t meet,

Up tonight,

But I’ve got stuff t’do.

I’ll give you a ring,

When I finish my thing.

Missing you, Xxx’

I turn on a tune,

As I float around my room,

Then I thumb press a message to a friend,

But as I press send….

The phone vibrates,

My mouth dehydrates,

My heart beats hard,

As I regard,

His name upon the screen.


“How’s you my queen?

I’m suddenly free,

And wanted to be,

Spendin’ some time with my woman.

I’ll be round in ten,

Be outside then

I don’t want to have to come lookin’.”


He, that is him rises and leaves,

Leaving me with him, that is not him.

My childhood screams,

My present screams,

My future screams,

But I remain silent,

I remain empty.


Please stamp on me, squash me and kick me,

I want you to hate me.

Won’t you spit as I pass.

Don’t say ‘Hello,’

Or, ‘How are you?’

I don’t want condescension or pity.

I don’t want pleasant.

I don’t want acknowledgment.

Delight in not seeing me,

Revel in not knowing me,

Detest this…..

This that I am.


No, don’t detest,

I am not worthy of such feeling.

Ignore me,

I am less than any dirt,

I am nothing.


Quickly I pull on a tight, short skirt with a low cut shirt,

 Throw on some lippy and put my hair up in a hurry,

View my reflection in the glass, decide I’ll have to pass,

Then down the stairs and out the door I scurry.


‘Alright sexy!’

I hear him shout.

Not sure of direction,

My eyes search him out.

He's there on the corner,

Door held wide,

On a black Ford Mustang,

And I half fall inside,

Onto two of his mates,

Who are sat in the back,

They laugh at my stumbling,

And my backside gets a slap.

I squeeze myself between them,

My cheeks pinked with heat,

My skirt moving upwards,

As I take my seat,

And I fail to notice their avid eyes,

Greedily raking my pale teenage thighs.

I’m distracted by the jealous frustration,

That my man and myself won’t be in isolation.

A bottle is pushed into my hand,

And I take a large gulp as is their demand.

As more alcohol is liberally applied,

My disappointments flee,

And I just giggle doltish like,

When a stray hand finds my knee.


His roughened fingers push,



His piggy eyes shine brightly,

As he leans in towards me.

His narcissistic smile reeks of tobacco and anise,

It is the perfume of my self-loathing.


We stand as observer,

To her most certain expectations,

This sweet petalled rosebud,

So soft and tender.

She holds so quietly,

She stands so gently,

With silken impatience,

She awaits the warmth of Summer Sun.

She looks anticipate,

Towards that moment,

That crescendo,

That too short time,

That climax of kept promise,

When her fragrance,

Of heavenly velvet bloom,

Will sing to the world.


We are the silent watcher of her destruction.

The unspeaking populace.

We look upon the secateurs,

As they slice through her naïve hopes,

Leaving only thorns of pain and hate.

We see all.

We see nought.


The car has stopped, I’m not sure where,

A mates place, I heard someone say.

I’m helped from the car,

And my man takes my hand,

Says he’s glad that I’ve come out to play,

That if I’m good and do as he tells,

So many sweet gifts will he buy,

So we both head inside and we sit on a couch,

And more alcohol is there supplied.

His mates that we’re with,

Though some are much older,

Are funny and friendly,

I slowly grow bolder,

He kisses me hard and I feel so nice,

The drink makes me woozy and warm,

I let his hands wander and stroke where they will,

Let him mould me to more pliant form.

In a boozy haze my inhibitions forsaken,

His mates are all laughing and photos are taken,

They egg on for more and though I know I shouldn’t,

I do many things that I normally wouldn’t,

Feeling safe in the arms of my man.


Fearful of humiliation,

A wanting of self-affirmation,

A part of my youth’s exploration,

For all this and more will I drink.


Intuition tells me things aren’t quite the same

When the following night we meet up again

We drive as before and I’m plied with drink

But my fella seems a little more distant I think

And when we arrive I can’t comprehend

That all things that were are now at an end

As I’m passed from his hands and into another’s

So easily my drunken protests he smothers

He watches unmoved as I’m groped and used

As the child that I am is sexually abused

And through it all I see his eyes

And in the blink of eternity

I am worldly



He climbs over me,

Then his hand is on my breast,

Then he raises my skirt,

Then he is on me,

Then he is in me,

And I am not there.


All the boys come out to play

The girls are set out on display

They are young and they are cheap

Use them in a dark room or back alley street

Flat on their backs or against a wall

For just a few pounds they will serve you all

Abuse them harshly for they’re at your call

Take what they have they will give you their all

Beat and abuse them for no one will care

For who wants to hear of a sluts despair


“It’s not that bad, it’s only a man

Just don’t let them inside your head.”

Tells a girl who like me, gets used and abused

And I try hard to do as she’s said

But though I do

Pain and scars accrue

With each bastard that takes me to bed.


And so I sink

I drown

In men, in drugs, in drink

For days, then weeks,

For months, then years

I learn there is no point in tears

Discover that I have no choice

No voice.


There she sits, this unsought interloper

sipping tea, gingersnap fragments

sticking in the throat. Pleasantries


about the weather, with smiles that

don’t reach the eyes. Another do-gooder

on the couch. Another out of touch


sympathiser, educated to see lies

in truths, turning words into sawdust

and silence. My faults are hers to


pay the bills and she has come for her

bonus. Like all previous angels of mercy,

the accusers and the blame layers,


come to confirm me as self-harmer.

Institutional authority speaks. I, the worthless,

am instigator of my self-destruction.


I look into her eyes and I am surprised

to see integrity staring back. She puts down

her cup and leans in towards me,


taking my hand in hers. She touches

lost innocence and strikes my heart

with fear when she says,


‘I believe you.’


And so it was

And so it is

I was tainted and spoiled

All that I was and am

Is soiled

All that I was and am

Is taken

All that I was and am

Is forsaken


I remain broken.



child abusedifficultmovingemotionalrochdalelongsound

◄ Punk No More

Living My Own Death ►


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