Solitary Confinement

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Alone with my Thoughts

I’m not my worst enemy

I’m a prisoner, an unwilling hostage

Confined by thoughts of despair and solitude

Incarcerated in the darkness of my regressive mind

Images cloud my tired mind

Some strikingly clear, others somewhat hazy

Slivered light – Dawn signals a new day

Not enough to fend off my mind’s tricks

The mildew of indescribable sadness

Fills my nostrils, making me gag

My heart aches, but no tears fall

No-one hears the silent screams of my misery

Dampness clings to my cheeks

Tears have escaped, during my sleep

I’m alone. No Love to cover me

My vivid imagination my only hope of freedom

Seated on the slimy mattress

I contemplate jumping into the chasm

At least there I will be free

Thoughts…they won’t be able to harm me

There is no prison warden

With an evil grin, nor the keys

Only I have the means to leave

I need strength to fight the loneliness



I woke up on Sunday morning, opened the blinds and smiled with relief when I saw the blue skies because I wanted to take a solitary nature walk, to connect with a part of myself that I miss.


(Photo from saidaonline)

Alas, the weather has turned foul, so my plans were shelved for the moment.

I had had some friends round the night before for a small get together.  We had a few laughs and when everyone had left and I was doing the last of the dishes, I suddenly felt like someone had ripped my heart out.  Just.  Like.  That.  I waited until everyone had let me know they’d arrived home safely and I crawled into bed.  Horrid dreams plagued me all night.  I was awake at five am again…

I had my morning shower and put on some Lady Antebellum – it’s great Sunday music.  The strangest thing happened when All We’d Ever Needed started playing – I was overwhelmed by a flood of tears and a gut-wrenching yearning…for someone.  The question is who?  Some days being alone really gets to me; it makes my heart ache so badly. My folks got home from a weekend away and we went out for lunch to a local steak house called Cattle Baron.  Elizabeth joined us, as did Aunty Carol and Uncle Barry.  Lunch was divine, as were some shooters…but even more scrumptious was our waiter, a tall, dark haired, blue eyed god called G.T.  The old folks left and Elizabeth and I stayed behind, drinking coffee – but G.T I’m sure knew we stuck around to just perv over him.

After I got home, the Sunday blues grabbed me again, so I forced myself to write something – I have had no inspiration for quite a while now and many people notice that I’m devouring books.  What they don’t know is that as long as I’m reading, I’m not writing much.  I read three novels last week…


A simple tune drowns out the white noise

But it doesn’t stop the raging storm

Waves of emotion crash over my rocky heart

Changing its exterior with each swell

A deep, insatiable yearning sets in

Tears blur my vision

The melody continues to taunt me

Rubbing my solitude in my face

Taking pleasure in my heartache

Evil voices laugh in my head

Making me doubt my worthiness

I wonder if you see what I see

Is that why you keep your distance?

I know you’ve noticed me

Yet you keep me at arm’s length

Or do I just blend into the background?

The yearning to be part of your life

Devours my mind

Day and Night

Dawn and Dusk

Through my soft sobs

I wipe my tears

The yearning isn’t gone, but the ditty is finished

I have to carry on, face the day…and not lose hope.

Creative Writing: Mixed Emotions


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Mixed Emotions

Your voice so rich and inviting

Your chocolate eyes so warm

Your smile genuine and open

Yet your reaction is cold…


My hope will not be cut off

Tells a wise king in the Proverbs

I have a future

Solomon declares


I extend an olive branch, a request to mend what’s left of what we have

But only lowly twigs remain

As your fire of rejection burns it to ashes

My heart aches in sad confusion


I hear your hollow voice behind me in the hallway

I turn to look into your reflection-less eyes

Your lips so tightly pursed hide your memorable smile

Who are you?  What have you become?


Momentary flames burn within me

As I speak your name from my lips

My tummy flutters when I see you

My skins yearns for your touch


I cling to my promised hope

Of a love eternal

I am never alone

Single footsteps show me where He carries me…


Wordlessly you open your arms

A tear escapes, staining your cheek

Your lips part in a primal roar

“I love you.   Please, don’t leave me!”


Only embers remain

As ice engulfs my heart

I feel empty and lost

Yet strangely at peace


My voice is crisp

My eyes wide-open

My smile sincere

My reaction unexpected, even to me…


“I am hurt, confused and almost hateful…

But I can’t stop loving you!”


A roaring fire burns my core

As I scream your name from my lips

My tummy flutters as you gently take my hand

My skin is alive by your touch.

Creative Writing: The Letter I’d Write, but Never Post

Another repost from 2009 – a chap I fancied at the time suggested I write a suicide note for a creative writing challenge, so I did:


When I used to hear people talk about people they knew who had committed suicide, my immediate reaction was always, “What can be so bad that someone feels they have NOBODY to talk to?”  Ironically enough, I have reached that very point in my life, where I feel nobody will understand, let alone care.  Even more ironic still is that while I feel nobody will understand, I still feel the need to explain why I have decided to end my own life and to bid the important people in my life a final, bittersweet farewell.

Mom and Dad – I could not have asked for better parents.  You have both been a shining example of what love, hope and trust are.  You taught me many important things during the last three decades, particularly to be proud of who I am and what I have achieved.  I am proud of many things, particularly to have had you as parents, but I am not proud of the many disappointments I have allowed you to suffer as a result of my pig-headedness.  I know that you will have to face many people after I’ve gone and while I know it will be a disappointment, I ask you to forgive me.  I love you both with my entire heart.  And I am grateful for everything you have done for me.  Please tell Aunty C, Uncle B, Cousins A & L and her kiddies that they were always my favourites.

I have had so many people I have been privileged to call friends over the years. Some were only in my life for a season, others for much longer.  Three friends, although I don’t think they realize it, have really touched my life on this earth – not because of who they are (well, that too…) but because of the importance they place in their faith.  While I am a believer, I was never fortunate enough to experience the same depth and dependency of faith in my life as they did in theirs. Mia, Haan and Nella – may your faith always keep you going.  And, while I’m probably not in the position to be making requests given my decision, I beg for your forgiveness and ask you to pray for my parents left behind.

Zettie, Liza, and Kel – in addition to the three friends mentioned above, you too have touched my life.  Despite time, distance and my ever changing moods, each one of you was always willing to set time aside to listen when I needed you or just to be.  This means more to me than I think any one of you may realize.  Sadly though, in spite of this, I wasn’t able to share the deep sadness that has haunted me to such an extent that I have chosen to end my life, rather than face the continuing darkness.

A – Baby, you are someone who also touched my life in a very profound way.  You were there when the wheels started to fall off the wagon with S (as were you Zettie) and continued to be for long after.  We’ve shared laughs, tears and some naughty secrets.  Know my friend that I’m sorry to leave you, but really, I don’t see any alternative.  How do I go on?  You can keep my sexy black ‘n green dress.  Just don’t wear it to my funeral!

J – I love you.  I have since the first time you chirped me at work.  I’ve laughed with you, cried with you and been so naughty with you.  It took you a long time to make a move, but when you did, it shook my world.  I don’t think I was ever the same after that first kiss we had shared.  I wish you every happiness in the world. Just remember to be good – and if you can’t, take pictures.

To those of you who didn’t receive a special mention, I doesn’t mean that pictures of you didn’t pop into my mind and make me smile.  I will miss you all too!

With much heartache and despair,


Creative Writing: Windows

Policeman Peeking In

When I saw the theme “windows” I thought, “hmmm, what to write?”


I have been thinking about it for most of the morning, in between my regular murder plotting and poison-brewing sessions, and eventually inspiration struck. While this is not exactly a story about windows, it involves windows being opened as well as peeped through.


My parents often used to leave me in Cousin L’s care when her parents and mine decided to go somewhere for a weekend.  I remember one weekend in particular…


Cousin L was on the verge of her 18th birthday which would mean I was already 16 at the time.  Our parents went away for a weekend and left us at home.  I loved spending time alone with Cousin L because we would always do girly-stuff together and she would let me watch movies that my parents thought either too graphic, too violent, too sexual, too whatever.


Anyhow, it was a Friday night and by 6 PM we were kitted out in our pajamas watching Egoli, when hunger pangs got the better of Cousin L and she asked what I would like for supper.  Bear in mind that age 16, all I could cook was rice and instant gravy.  I said to her that chops would probably be a good idea.


Cousin L, not one to do anything in half measures, took out about 20 chops, spiced them, and promptly popped them under the grill.  By this time there was something juicy happening in Egoli, so she and I once again became engrossed, not really noticing the smoke billowing around us.  At one stage I still remember commenting to her that the TV was a bit hazy.


During the ad break, she went to check on the chops, let out a shriek and yelled, “Oh fuck MTM, the chops are on fire!!”  *Cough, cough, sputter, sputter*  “FUCK! Help me damnit!!”  Ever calm, I told her to find some bicarb in the pantry and chuck it over the chops to douse the flames.  By this time she eventually had the savvy to close the oven door, but kept peering through it – and believe me, while a watched pot never boils, an oven on fire just keeps on flamin’!


“MTM, I can’t find the bicarb – so I’m just going to use…”  and before I could yell for her not to, she tossed flour onto the already blazing chops.  Needless to say, the flour too caught alight and soon the flames were licking her forearms and all I could get out of was, “Fuck!  Fuck!  FUCK!!!”


In between the chaos, there was a hammering on the front door (which is one of those made up of tiny little cottage windows) and while I was scuttling out of my slippers to answer the door, I noticed a man peering in through it.  I opened the door and there stood a policeman in full uniform.  “Lovely, just lovely.  What now?!” I thought.


The policeman, ever so polite asked if everything was alright.  I told him that we were fine and proceeded to enquire if there was a problem.  “Well, yes young lady, there appears to be a problem – there is smoke billowing out of all your windows. Is there a fire?”


“Oh no Sir, that’s just my cousin cremating my dinner, but she has everything under control.”


“Fuck!” came the voice from the kitchen and the next thing both the policeman and I heard a kind of ssshhhhhhh noise – Cousin L had extinguished the blaze – with her dad’s foam extinguisher.


She came out of the kitchen, wiping perspiration from her brow, muttering something about fat on the element and then stuck out her hand to shake the policeman’s.  I don’t know who was more gobsmacked – me, or the policeman.


Needless to say, we never had supper that night and the chops were disposed of in such a way that nobody ever knew about our little pyrotechnic episode.


Aunty C (Cousin L’s mom couldn’t understand what the white foamy stuff, and some black bits in her vacuum cleaner was though…yip – you guessed it, Cousin L hoovered the oven out.


Never a dull moment…

Creative Writing: Good vs Evil

This was a piece I wrote in February 2009.  It was based on Marc Chagall’s painting, titled La Mariee.  It was written on my interpretation of the painting.



Bloodied Bride

In the pits of hell she walks
Her once-pure-white wedding dress
Tainted with dry, maroon blood

For her child to lead a normal life
She must offer herself in sacrifice
To live eternally damned

He smiles with evil glee
Goat-like devil, groom of damnation
Her master in hell forevermore

Her eyes are dead
Her soul lost
Her child no longer in danger…

His lungs fill with unassisted air
For the first time since the accident
That killed his father

He and Mom had just married
She tried to help
But his stomach was eviscerated

She died giving him CPR
She thought she would get time
To make a decision

Regarding her salvation
But she never did
Everything died that day…

Creative Writing: Fun

When I read the theme for the November Paint the World with Words Challenge, the Beach Boys tune “Fun, Fun, Fun” popped into my head immediately and now I have a brain itch…again. Maybe, once I’ve posted this entry, that itch will be scratched.

I know Shongi is hoping for poetry, but I opted for something else, inspired by the lyrics that are milling round in my head.

Well she got her daddys car
And she cruised through the hamburger stand now

When my biological father and Mom were still together and we were still living in Johannesburg, it was the rage to go to the drive-in and roadhouses. Many a Friday night, the three of us would pile into the car and do just that. I remember a funny incident where we stopped at a roadhouse and Father ordered a hamburger. When the hamburger arrived he was most disgusted because said hamburger was a patty simply slapped between two slices of semi-cremated toast.

He promptly when inside and said to the owner, “Would you eat this?!” To which the shop owner replied, “Yes!”, grabbed it out of Father’s hand and promptly gobbled it up. Father stood there somewhat speechless and very red-faced. Even though I have mainly bad memories of Father, these drive-in and roadhouse outings were always fun.

Seems she forgot all about the library
Like she told her old man now

My friend N, boarded with us in our Matric year and we would sometimes play hookie after school, telling Mom that we had an assignment which we needed to research after school (it’s not like we even knew about the Internet then), when in actual fact, we had a date with the Tidal Pool at the Point. You see, I had a serious crush on one of the guys in my register class – a strapping lad named JCM, who was a god without his shirt on. Like his two elder brothers, he was a superb swimmer and the Tidal Pool was where one would find him every day after school if the sun was remotely shining. N and I would stop for ice-cream on the way and spend the afternoon baking in the sun, perving over JCM. I remember those days – ice-cream, crashing waves and gorgeous bods. Good old-fashioned-innocent-teenage fun.

And with the radio blasting
Goes cruising just as fast as she can now

And she’ll have fun fun fun
til her daddy takes the t-bird away
(fun fun fun til her daddy takes the t-bird away)

On the subject of “Daddy’s Car”, this portion of the song rings very true with me. I absolutely adore driving fast, even more so, when it’s in “Daddy’s Car” often to the detriment of my budget at some stage, but there is nothing more fun than listening to- and singing along with a really good song at a decibel level Mom is unable to appreciate, with the window open, just enjoying the music and the sunshine. Again, simple, innocent, feel-good fun.

Well the girls can’t stand her
cause she walks, looks and drives like an ace now
(you walk like an ace now you walk like an ace)
She makes the indy 500 look like a roman chariot race now
(you look like an ace now you look like an ace)
A lotta guys try to catch her
But she leads them on a wild goose chase now
(you drive like an ace now you drive like an ace)

And she’ll have fun fun fun
til her daddy takes the t-bird away
(fun fun fun til her daddy takes the t-bird away)

I have, up until very recently thought of myself as an Ugly Duckling, but with the help of good friends and a really cool orthodontist, I am seriously looking good – that sounds so self absorbed, doesn’t it?! – I am pretty much summed up in this verse above. I have mentioned before too, that I’m an insatiable flirt, so leading ’em on a wild goose chase is also so much fun.
Well you knew all along
That your dad was gettin wise to you now
(you shouldnt have lied now you shouldnt have lied)
And since he took your set of keys
You’ve been thinking that your fun is all through now
(you shouldnt have lied now you shouldnt have lied)

But you can come along with me
cause we gotta a lot of things to do now
(you shouldnt have lied now you shouldnt have lied)

And we’ll have fun fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away
(fun fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away)
And we’ll have fun fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away
(fun fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away)
(fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away)
(fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away)
(fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away)
(fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away)
(fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away)
(fun fun now that daddy took the t-bird away)

Again, true…I have been in some situations, where a too much red wine has resulted in someone taking my keys away, but that’s when the real fun starts…and I’ll keep having fun, fun, fun – even if Daddy takes my Silver Bullet away 🙂