National Poetry Day

National poetry day was created to prove that poetry has a part to play in everyone’s life. And we’ve got a GREAT one for you to read today!

We learn funny rhymes in school and then, often as we get older, set them to music - to become songs. Poetry, rhymes and songs are used to entertain and communicate across nations.

So, here is a stanza bonanza for you!

But I must give you a warning. 

This poem is about different ways of dealing with trauma and tragedy. Something that sadly, many of the children and young people we work with deal with on a daily basis. 

I hope you enjoy it, and I hope it helps you to understand people a little more. And perhaps judge them a little less.

 

Mask 1:

Drugs and alcohol

I’m intoxicated,

I’m absolutely inebriated,

My right mind’s been confiscated,

And you know what?

I like it.

Just one drink I said, 

(famous last words).

Now, my vision is blurred,

My words are slurred,

My behaviour is absurd,

But I won’t be deterred,

I’m on a mission.

To escape.

To forget.

I never wanna come down off this high.

Even if it leaves me with regret

My ambition? 

Why, it’s to lose all my inhibitions!

Grams of Coke, eighths of smoke, 

Now, I’m going home with some random bloke,

I’ve got an appetite that can’t be satiated,

Until I’m once again humiliated,

And you’ve got a funny story.

I’m laughing,

This is my moment,

My glory,

But really

I’m burning with a shame at my name being

Defamed …..again…..

 

Don’t judge me.

Can’t you see?

I’m just coping,

I’m hiding.

Just surviving not thriving,

It’s a mask.

A coping strategy to deal with tragedy.

 

 

Mask 2 

Disordered eating

I’ve not eaten,

But I put crumbs on a plate,

Telling my mate,

That I ate,

Even though she knows,

Because it shows, 

with my falling weight…

And I’m running,

I’m trying to outrun my past,

Can I outrun it if I’m fast?

Enough?

Does that make me good

 enough?

How about if I’m thin 

enough?

 

I’m punishing myself for eating that biscuit,

It makes me feel out of control,

And I can’t risk it,

I need to feel in control,

Because growing up, 

Things were out of my control,

And now I’m fighting to get back some control,

Because deep in my soul,

I’m scared.

So

I divide foods into good and bad,

So, I don’t have to feel this sad feeling

Because something about me feels so unappealing,

And I didn’t know that by trying to control my body and my food, 

I was blocking my own healing.

That I was concealing

The devastation of grown-ups stealing

what wasn’t theirs to take. 

And so,

I make food and body image my obsession,

Forcing all unbearable feelings into suppression,

By teaching my body with aggression,

That often leads to the darkest depression,

And I diligently separate foods into dirty and clean,

Because I unconsciously believe that in me, 

there is something too obscene to be seen,

So, I binge and purge, 

with my head down a latrine,

Because maybe if I’m lean,

I can be small enough to be 

Unseen.

And then I’ll be safe.

 

Don’t judge me.

Can’t you see? 

I’m just coping,

I’m hiding,

Just surviving, not thriving,

It’s a mask, a coping strategy to deal with tragedy.

 

Mask 3 

Sex and Relationships

I cling to you like you’re my oxygen mask, 

I need you to breathe,

And if you leave,

I’ll be in a cask…et,

I can’t bear that 

threat,

So, I twist and turn,

Trying to earn

Your affection. 

Leaving me in a state of dejection, 

because when you reject me,

It makes me hate me,

So much 

I literally want to kill me,

So, I go

into control and manipulation,

Using sex to bring stimulation,

To you.

Even though I’m in complete disassociation,

And you don’t even know,

Because boy,

I’m putting on one hellava show!

I’ll be anything you want me to be,

I use sex as my currency,

You give me Love,

I give you me,

Well at least my bo-dy,

Because I’m afraid of intimacy,

In-to-me-see.

See?

I’m playacting,

Re-enacting,

Messages I learnt long ago,

Sex is my armour,

My protection,

Not condoms and caps,

And barrier contraception,

Sex is my shield,

That I wield,

Because I’m not yet healed

Enough 

to know that when you start breadcrumbing,

I don’t need to come running,

Because I am

enough,

But,

I am scared.

And you think I’m sexy, adventurous, keen,

But I’m broken,

Offering you a token

Of a fragmented sexuality,

Rudely awoken,

Before the time was right,

Like a nightmare,

in the middle of the night.

Too young, 

too scared, 

too vulnerable, 

to fight, 

or even know that I could.

And if I would…

Maybe it would have stopped? 

But I didn’t have a voice, 

it was beaten out of me. 

And my power of choice, 

was taken away from me.

So, when this man came along, 

I thought he’d come to save me,

But instead,

he came to engrave in me,

A way to behave 

that would enslave 

me to men. 

And to sex.

And to desperately

Wanting to be loved,

And the screwed-up thing is that I thought what I had with him

Was

true love.

So now, when a man is kind,

It baffles my mind,

because I equate it with sex.

I think that’s what he expects,

So around him,

I’m starting to flex,

(much to my embarrassment),

This sexual trauma is so complex,

and you know the sad thing? 

If you actually try and love me 

and come close…

I’ll make it so hard for you to do, 

to even get through

To me.

Because I’m scared.

 

So, I go into sabotage 

and self-destruct,

Because I’ve believed the lie

that I’m not worth anything.

 

Don’t judge me.

Can’t you see?

I’m just coping, 

and hiding, 

just surviving,

not thriving,

It’s a mask, 

a coping strategy to deal 

with tragedy.

 

So maybe you saw me –

drunk as a skunk;

On drugs,

Flying high, 

Or looking thin with my new guy,

Maybe you thought that was the real me, 

Even, that I had it all together,

But I was just trying to weather,

The storm,

that I was born

into.

Trying to survive

until I was brave enough 

not to hide

Anymore. 

But I’m ready now,

The time has come,

To be undone,

And not be numb

-whatever the outcome-

My task is to unmask,

And to finally overcome,

We were masking for COVID-19, 

but I’ve been doing it since childhood;

using masks as a smokescreen,

In the hope they would keep me safe, 

hidden, 

and unseen,

Unmasking feels scary.

A lot of the time I feel terrified,

But I need to resurrect that part of me that died,

I know, I’ve got tremendous courage,

And I’m feeling so proud,

Speaking to your crowd, 

Opening up my heart, 

allowing you in, 

giving you a glimpse of where I’ve been, 

“Welcome to the grand opening,

This,

is my official unmasking.

My homecoming. 

Thank you for sharing it with me.”

 

 

This poem was written by one of our supporters, an incredibly talented lady called Natasha Jacobs. 

If you’d like to hear more of her work, she will be performing live on the 30th of October at the Soul Food poetry event in Luton. Tickets are available here and it’s an open mic night - so you have enough time to write your own piece and then speak it out loud to a warm and encouraging audience! 

Why not try it? 

We promise you; you won’t be disappointed and you could start to build some amazing new relationships…. Because some strangers are just friends that you haven’t met yet.