Graphic, poems

She cries when I laugh

She cries when I laugh


She cries when I laugh but doesn’t hear my screams.

Torments all my demons without knowing what I’ve seen.

I hear her cackles fill the night from underneath my bed.

I whisper “Is that you?” to the emptiness inside my head.

The rocking chair sways empty, idly back and forth.

She turns to face me smiling and I’m hit with another curse.

My blood doesn’t curdle, it’s thicker than that and yet I still don’t know how to react.

The hairs on my neck march to their own band to wage war on a foe nobody had planned.

The Cobwebs on my face write of hope and glory.

The tears I hold back tell a different story.

She rattles her glass and out pops an eye as the moon falls on down when I say goodbye.


Copyright G.P Williamson 2017

Graphic, poems

Mustiness (Graphic)

Mustiness (Graphic)


There’s a mustiness contained within his coat from the congealed water.

I can smell it’s taste when he’s close enough to breath on me.

He doesn’t exactly breath, like his eyes don’t exactly see, as much as he’s just there, stationary, waiting.

Waiting for an action, a movement, a hair to fall out of place or the silent click of an opening jaw  about to scream before he reacts.

Curtains close and a painful silence ensues.

You better hope you’re not silent.

There’s a rise in every moved hip, trembling lip or sliding slip that’s just another excuse to hit.

Did you bite your lip after he’d spit?

Blood droplets down pale faces.

Make up all sold and brought.

You’re innocent, You’re someone daughter.

There’s a mustiness contained within his coat from the congealed water.


© G.P Williamson 2017