catwell20's blog: "Char's poetry"

The Crowning of the Witches The dawn had arisen with the brilliance of a thousand watts of light through the smallest pin hole in the blinds on the bedroom window. Right in my eye with a piercing glow enough to cause a migraine headache big enough to make the sanest person crazy. It seemed to relentlessly follow my every effort to block it out. I threw my covers off and moaned the obsinaties of a woman not ready to start her hum drum life that morning. I was not for sure why I was even making an effort to wake up or even rise out of bed. Since I lost my job I just haven’t had the will to go on with my life or even just go about the days. I get up, clean the house, go online and send resumes to every job I see weather it interests me or not it is a job and a paycheck, then if I have the gas I get me ass out on the road with resumes in one hand and high hopes in the other. Smiling at every one I shake hands with and try to kiss ass just enough to get hired but not fucked over. And go figure, I am still jobless. What does it take to get a job around here? Do I have “don’t hire me I am not worth it”, written on my forehead and damn the soap in the shower for not removing it. I hit the pavement with vengeance this morning and I was exhausted and at my wits end when I saw the sigh in the window for the little book store on the corner of main and Columbia. I had never seen this bookstore before and I had lived here all my life, read a lot of books and have walked these sidewalks faithfully for the past 6 months or so. I peek in the window to see if there is a clerk standing there to greet when I walk in and do cartwheels for and the song and dance that has not worked for me thus far but I didn’t know any other acrobatics to impress. I straighten myself and sigh deeply and put on my fake but realistic looking smile and open the door to step inside. The lady looks at me and smiles and says, “You don’t have to be fake with me dear I can see it in your eyes you are on your last legs of sanity. It is ok I am here to help you. I have watched you everyday for what seems to be an eternity walk these streets over and over and nothing is working. I was wondering when you would open your eyes and see me here.” “Ma’am I hate to say this but I have lived here all my life and as you pointed out I have hit the businesses around here several times with no job in sight but I have never seen you here, ever.” I was so intrigued by her observance of my life and everyday activity and didn’t stop me sooner if she truly wanted to help me. “Why, if you have watched me for so long making an ass out of myself, did you not save me from myself and society?” “My dear I wanted to come to you but this is something you had to see and do for yourself. You can’t make it to heaven without first going through hell. The saying is true have you ever heard it before? Anyway you will not believe me if I just start explaining it to you and I may even confuse you and me both.” she laughed a little at her comment and I smiled a little confused but humored by the little old lady. She almost looked like the pictures of the little old witches you see all over at Halloween. And her little cackle was the sound of one too. The gray long hair, the mole on her nose and chin, the long crooked fingers and nails, the only things missing were the long black witch garb dress and the pointed hat. “Oh and by the way you have the job so you need not worry and you can now relax those tired bones of yours. And to answer your question, no your pay expectations are not too high.” I looked at her with amazement and scratched my head, wrinkled my brow, and cocked my head off to the side like a dog does when his master says a new command that excites and yet confuses him. Now all I needed to do was pant, wag my tail and bark as I scratch at the fleas on my ears. “How did you know what I was thinking? Or do I want to know? Thank you for the job. You just tell me what to do and where I begin and I promise I will not disappoint you ma’am.” “Well dear since I am no good at explaining things to people for now I just want you to take this book home with you and read it and when you are done with it and if you are still interested come back and let me know. I trust that you will be back to start working or to return the book and tell me I am a crazy old bat but I am sure you will come back ready to get started.” she pulled out an old book that was bound in a hard cover that was black and had gold pinstriped art work outlining the outer edges and the old script type writing. It was beautiful in all of its old time glory. The words scribed on the front read, The Cauldron of the witches faith”.

There are pills for everything. Headache, heartburn, gotta poop, nada poop, sinuses, pms, There’s a pill for that. Voices in your head, things under your bed, no sleep, wanna sleep, There’s a pill for that. Heart attack, panic attack, speed you up, slow you down, There’s a pill for that. Gotta fart, tryin not to fart, need to laugh, laugh too much, There’s a pill for that. Bones hurt, joints ache, muscles tight, night time fright, There’s a pill for that. Nerves are bad, I’m always sad, sugars high, blood pressures low, There’s a pill for that. Bipolar, hypertension, multiple personalities, There’s a pill for that. All these pills are well and good even if you don’t take them like you should. Pills are what we all should do, even if they are not prescribed to you. happy happy is what I will be, so all of you come take some pills with me!!!!! Copyright2006

Deadly Accident I woke up this morning with an eerie feeling some one was watching me. Just to open my eyes and look around to see nothing there. I tried to go back to sleep but every time I dozed off I heard some one whisper my name in my ear. Sometimes it was just hot air like the breath of a mad man on the back of my neck. I decided sleep was not going to happen and flung my covers off of me with a bit of anger because I was still sleepy. I felt the bad attitude setting in and the feeling of some one watching me still there. I decide to let some anger out and shouted into the emptiness, “I hope you are happy now I am awake and in a REALLY bad mood!” I find myself laughing at me shouting and made me a little better. I went downstairs to get me some coffee to help me wake up when the gut feeling of an intruder settled in my stomach. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I getting sick or is some one really here? My eyes widen and my ears more keen to the sounds around me as I dredge through the foyer to the kitchen. Thank God for coffee pots with automatic starter timers I thought to myself as I pored me the biggest cup I had. I stood there for a moment sipping my coffee and trying to shake the bad feelings I had in my bones when a slight breeze brushed against my back and startled me. I gasp and slam my cup to the counter and turn around so quickly it made me slightly dizzy. No one there. I turn back to grab my coffee and head back up the steps to take my shower and see I have spilt it on the floor and counter. Ok I am mad again. I grab the paper towel and start vigorously wiping up my mess when out of the corner of my eye I think I see some one run by the doorway in the foyer. Startled again I am now shaking as I grab my huge coffee mug filled with hot coffee. My weapon of choice should there be some one there. I round the corner and get ready to throw my steaming hot coffee on them and beat them with my monster of a coffee mug. “Hello?” I say with a squeaky puberty like shaky voice. Again no one there. I take my sigh of relief and head back up the stairs. I thought to myself how I wished the kids or the husband was there to save me or just make this awful feeling go away. But every one was gone but me. My only day off with nothing to do but sleep and it is ruined by a feeling of a sinister presents. I set my coffee down on the dresser and open the top drawer to expose the .38 caliber pistol we have for these very moments and I set it in the bathroom on the edge of the tub as I start filling it with hot water. Maybe all I need is a nice hot bath to soothe me instead of a shower. I will be able to relax in there. I go back out to the dresser to grab my coffee and it wasn’t there. Now I am truly scared or just crazy. I know I brought it up with me. I know I laid it on the dresser. I start looking around the room for signs of some one there other than me as I walk backwards back into the bathroom. I shut the door and lock it and think of how I could muster up the bravery to go back out there and grab the phone to call for help just to remember I have the gun in here with me. A little relieved I turn to shut off my bath water and there sits my coffee. I didn’t remember bringing it in here but with as bizarre as my morning has been I wouldn’t put it past me to have done it subconsciously. I felt better seeing it in there and passed it off as one of my idiosyncrasies of the day and unlocked the door and opened it to my room. I thought to myself, I can see them coming now and I would have more time to get a better shot in. I start laughing to myself and thinking what a lovely story this would make for me and my husband this evening. I strip naked and submerge myself in my hot, relaxing, soothing, bath. I lay my head back on the edge of the tub and start the relaxation process. I laid there thinking of this morning and how odd it was when I start to fall asleep. I was so relaxed finally it felt so good. I wake to what sounded like some one stumbling over something and just catching themselves before they are laid out flat on the ground. I slowly grab the gun and cock the trigger trying to not make any noise. I sat there for a few minutes and nothing ever happened but I had the most disturbing feeling I was in trouble. I sat in the tub shaking and debating on if I should say something or just set there ready to pull the trigger. All of a sudden some one jumps out into the doorway and screams. I am so scared that without hesitation or even focusing on them I pull the trigger with my eyes closed hoping I hit them or scared them off or both. I Slowly open my eyes to see my husband lying on the floor bleeding profusely from his chest. I scream and jump out of the tub and rush to his side. I am screaming and crying for help as I bend down over him. He smiles and says, “I left work today so I could surprise you and we could spend the day together just me and you, no kids, no nothing. I think I made a mistake.” “Oh my God, baby I am so sorry I thought you were an intruder. I had a strange feeling this morning some one was here and me being the one who can’t get over my past and being raped and tortured for days before escaping my own death I didn’t think it would be you. I was scared. I am so sorry let me call for help. I make a mad dash for the phone and skid on my knees back to his side. He looks up at me and says, “I just wanted to surprise you, I am sorry I scared you.” he pulls me down to his face and gently kisses me and says, “I love you.” with his last breath. “911, what is your emergency?” Copyright ©2007 Charlotte L. Atwell

Ocean in my Eyes My eyes are welling with tears. Like a rainfall in the spring. Harmless for the first few hours. Then the damn breaks from the weight of the rain. There goes the home. The hopes and dreams. Your everything. You thought it would never happen to you. Your life lost in a sea of blue. Everything you had and wanted. Gone in a flash of a natural disaster. The only thing you can do is cry harder. Let it all bleed through. After all the cause of it all is you. If you would have just heeded the warnings. The damn would not have been the same. The result is final. The end of the book is being read. Your ending is sad and fully dead. Why didn’t you get that out of your head? You lied. You cheated. You even stole. My heart you have ripped from my soul. I pray for you and your future alone. Because this time I have learned from. I will find my fate. My destiny. My one true love that will set me free. From you and all of the pain you have caused. Love isn't supposed to hurt this way. So leave me be I pray. The ocean is seeping into my soul. And washing you out on its frothy tail. Good bye to you and your childish crap. How's that for a bitch slap? Copyright ©2007 Charlotte L. Atwell

The Halloween Massacre I had a dream on Halloween. The boogie man was out to get me. In the movie he was after his sister. Who at the time was the babysitter. I was babysitting my little brother. Who was just as terrified as I was. No more scary movies before bed. No more scary thoughts in our heads. It is getting late and we have school tomorrow. Go brush your teeth I will be up in a little while. I watched him go up the stairs and into the bathroom. I made sure every lock was locked in every room. On my way to the stairs I saw a man in the window. I jumped and gasped for air. Then my little brother was standing at the top of the stairs. What’s wrong sis he asked in fright. Oh nothing I said not taking the window out of my sight. Go get in your bed bub I will be there in a minute. Aw shucks he said and moped off to bed. I stood there in shock and could not move. My bones shaking like I never knew they could. I see out of the corner of my eye open windows. My God I wonder how many windows there are to close. I run through the house with my heart racing. Closing the windows not knowing the trouble I would be facing. He made it inside without me even knowing. I stop and sigh and look to the top of the steps. I start climbing them exhausted like I haven’t slept. I reach the top and look to my brothers’ room. My heart drops and sees we are doomed. He has him in his arms with his hand over his mouth. He says to me to come here or he will take him out. Is this a joke I ask for it’s too much like the movie. He said no and that he watched it with me. That movie gave me the idea and way to do it. My brother bit him to get away but the man just threw a fit. He looked at my brother and called him some names. Then he stabbed him in the chest and screamed he wasn’t playing games. With my brother bleeding and near death. He focused on me as I stood there in disbelief. Your parents don’t love you or they would be home. Instead they are drinking and laughing in Rome. What do you think they will say and do? When they come home and find that I have killed you two? Don’t run; don’t hide for I will find you. Don’t delay this process it will only be harder on you. So I stood there crying and feeling blue. And thinking of what he said about our parents. Why were we there all alone for a week or two at a time? We are a burden on them and child neglect is a crime. Why I ask do you punish us for what our parents have done? Why do we suffer and they still get to have fun. He grinned with his rotten tooth grin as big as he could grin. He said I am only doing what they paid me to do even though it is a sin. With you two brats gone and out of the way. Your parents can have everything their way. No kids to take care of. No sitters to find. No working around your school activity grind. Free they called it. Free of hassle. Free of time. Free to go to Rome on the drop of a dime. They will get in very little trouble for leaving you behind. And as for me they will never find. I looked at him with a pain in my chest to hard to bare. You don’t have to kill me with that knife. I just felt my heart explode with sorrow. Just leave me now I will be dead by tomorrow. I can’t he said as he walked closer. He pulled out a gun and cocked the trigger. I am sorry little girl for what I am going to do. But your parents told me to get the job done. I drop to my knees and cry profusely. I feel the gun in my hair and hear the pop. Then silence then I drop. Copyright ©2007 Charlotte L. Atwell

Revenge I walked from work to my car looking for my keys. It was dark and foggy I could barely see. I got to my car and found the key and tried to unlock my door. Before I knew it I was being grabbed from behind and dragged into a van. I try to scream but across my mouth is a mans hand. I think to myself how could this be. It would never happen to me. I am not what a man would want not even in a dark fantasy. The man whispers in my ear to do what he says and everything will be ok. Don’t scream he says or it will be over as he takes his hand away. He stops the van in a dark wooded place and I know I am going to die. He turns to me and apologizes for what he is about to do. He tries to make me feel ok even though he is going to kill me. I cry and ask him why me when there is nothing about me that is special. He tells me he watches me everyday. He tells me I am special in my own little way. He tells me I am beautiful and he wished that he could have me. I have you now he says and now I want to keep you. I will be making love to you then letting your spirit free. You don’t have to kill me I say I will keep this a secret. We can meet and get to know each other and see what goes from there. You don’t understand, my dear, it is not that simple. I know it will never be for what I truly am. You are not the only one I have felt this way for. It happens all the time when I get turned down. You would never give me a chance any other time. The only reason you are now is because you don’t want to die. He ties me up and I cry and plead but nothing seems to matter. He kisses me as he violates me from the inside. I cry fight for I know what will happen next. He finishes and brings the knife up to my chest… Please I cry and beg and try with all my might. I feel it piercing my skin and running deep inside. I feel it go through my lung and start to fill with blood. With my last breaths I ask him again why. He tells me not to take it personal everyone he knows must die. I have been scorned and made fun of all my life. You paid and they all will pay with their life. Do you remember back in high school making my life hell? You made fun of me and laughed at me and made me who I am. I will see you and the rest of them when we meet back up again. For hell is where you are headed along with the rest of your friends. And when I am caught or die of old age I will see you again. Our souls will be one again when the devil stakes his claim. As I fade away into my never ending slumber he leans down to say. See you in hell, bitch, someday. Copyright ©2007 Charlotte L. Atwell

Your Words My pain runs deep like water in a cave. The hurt you have caused I will never be the same. You tell me how you feel and make me believe what you say is real. The cuts and blood I bare on my skin are your words. The words that you say to make me think I am crazy. Maybe I am but I will never know because you have me thinking so. I hide my tears and cuts and pain that I think is what makes me insane. Why hide the truth of how it is to live like I do. But how to expose you without being made out to be a fool. My cuts are real, my pain is deep, and I will die one day and be set free. The mask I wear is suffocating me to have to wear. My death might come faster so do beware. I doubt if I get the chance to make you the fool. Your power over me is your tool. Everybody thinks you are a saint. The greatest thing since chocolate cake. I am living in your shadow of greatness. When I am the one who has kept us together. Raise a family and done everything for the better. But yet I hear it everyday how great you are. How lucky I am to have you and all that you do. Well here is the truth. Yeah you are great to the kids I commend you for that. You are great at beating me, downgrading me, and calling me names. You are even great at telling me I am a failure time and time again. Yes I am fat; yes I am ugly but remember you married me. No I wasn’t fat then I know this but baring your children didn’t help a bit. When I try to loose it you get all bent out of shape. But as long you make me think I am crazy everything will be just fine. As I smile and go along with what you say, this is all I have to say. Copyright ©2007 Charlotte L. Atwell

The Hardest Part I love you for who you are. I hate you for what you have done. I love you for loving me. I hate you for loving me too. The hardest part of loving you is hating you too. I love the way you look at me. I hate the way you see me. I love it when you say nice things. I hate it when the things you say make me cry. The hardest part of loving you is hating you too. I love it when you hold me in your arms. I hate it when those arms turn violent. I love it when you make me feel safe. I hate it when you make me scared. The hardest part of loving you is hating you too. My heart aches. It is confused. Why do you do the things you do? One minute we are doing good. The next I am hiding from you. The hardest part of loving you is hating you too. Copyright ©2007 Charlotte L. Atwell

Every time you Say My name Do I have it written on my face? It's a feeling I don't embrace. To hurt some one the way you do. What if it was to happen to you? Would it make you feel like me? Would it make you very unhappy? Let me tell you how it makes me feel. I feel like hiding and crying. And like my life means nothing at all. Can you try to see my pain? The pain you have caused inside. Why I hang my head in shame. Every time you say my name. Because I know nothing nice will follow. Did it make you feel happy to make me cry? To know that you hurt me so. Do you even want to know? Why I hang my head in shame. Every time you say my name. Because I know nothing nice will follow. When will you finally grow up? And see everything you have done to me. When will you feel like I do? So desperate and unhappy. Why I hang my head in shame. Every time you say my name. Because I know nothing nice will follow. I have forgiven you for the past. Will this niceness from you last? I am glad you said you're sorry. Now I see a little piece of me reflecting off of you. I saw you hang your head in shame. When you had said my name. And then something nice did follow. I now can forgive. Everything you ever did. Because I see what you had done to me. Had come back on you and made you feel it too. Copyright2007 Charlotte Atwell

Just Once I found some razor blades today. Debated on using them to make the pain go away. I had it in my hand watching it shine. Just one little cut, just one little line. Will make me feel better and make everything fine. To make me feel better inside. The pain I hide in body and soul. The pain that you will never know. The pain of my present and past. Just one little cut, just one little line. Will make me feel better and make everything fine. Inflicted on me by the ones who I expected it last. The people who are suppose to love me the most. I speak not a word, my mouth forever closed. Just one little cut, just one little line. Will make me feel better and make everything fine. If you knew how I felt it would just fuel the fire. And give you the weapons of your desire. Causing my agony to be deep. Like the scars on my stomach you will never see. Just one little cut, just one little line. Will make me feel better and make everything fine. Will make be feel better and make everything fine. Not to deep as to need medical attention. Just enough to bleed and relieve my aggression. Just one little cut, just one little line. Will make me feel better and make everything fine. The blade now touching my skin. Cutting so slowly, the blood line so thin. Another scar to remind me of the pain I am in. The pain you have caused me . Like notches to remind me. That emotions are not just skin deep, nor scratching the surface. But permanent scars of all I have had to face. Just one little cut, just one little line. Will make me feel better and make everything fine. Copyright2007 Charlotte Atwell