The Cross

Long ago this cross was my lifeline

I clung to it with my eyes

until it became an imprint

on my soul

and a dark stain on my heart

I spent my life

searching for it

as if to find it again

would be a key

to the past

that may unlock me

and set me free

I look at it now

and my breath catches

and my heart flutters

like a dying bird

and I still cannot fly away

I am as trapped as I was

as a child

tracing every detail in my mind

to blot out

the insanity

of men.

 

To an unknown man

I never knew you

but I remember your grave,

black and imposing,

reflecting the moon.

I remember the feel of

the slick black marble

cold against my skin.

I remember the bitter smell

of small dead creatures

hidden in crevices

behind broken stone statues

with angel wings.

I died on your grave

and was resurrected

as a small and insignificant ghost,

unseen.

After long years I returned

and looked down on

your benevolent faded grandeur

I wondered if you remembered me,

that small screaming child,

and if it made you sad

that your grave was a place of terror,

and I realised

that I had never had anything to fear

from the dead.

 

The tunnel

I don’t remember this place

and yet my whole body knows it.

My skin remembers the intense cold

and my muscles remember shivering.

My nose remembers the damp mouldy smell

and my eyes remember total darkness.

My hands remember the damp roughness of brick

and my feet remember shuffling.

My ears remember echoed voices

and my brain remembers the terror.

I don’t remember this place

but I think you do.

Why did you never tell me

that you brought me here?

 

A small act of kindness

I don’t remember your name

but I remember how,

when I was alone and far from home,

you climbed onto my bed

and stroked my hair

till my tears dried and I slept.

I have carried the memory in my heart

through all the long and lonely years

waiting for the day

that I will be able to accept

that small act of kindness

and then to fall asleep

comforted.

 

Shadow

On my way to bed

I pass by the open lounge door

and from the corner of my eye

I see a shadow move

It detaches itself from the wall

and steps towards me

In terror I flee

and know no more.

 

The cell

 

Locked in the past

in a cold stone cell

waiting for you

the waiting is torture

but the sound of your

slow heavy footfalls

makes my heart plunge

to icy depths

of insanity