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Category: creative writing

I would tell you of the truths…


I will tell you that I came away unscathed,
Blemish free without a scar to talk off,
Yet, raise your voice and i will become one with the earth’s silence,
You will know of the fierceness in my blood,
Yet, there will be times when you watch me flinch at angry atoms
You will know the intimacy of my soul,
Yet instinct will find me a wall when you least expect it,
You will know me as a chaotic calm
my energy dancing in vivid thoughts that will spill from my lips with the innocence of eyes still discovering,
Yet, with glass upon your lips
with each sip, each gulp
You will watch me cocoon myself within my shell,
taking refuge within my armour
watching, observing, surviving.
And it is then, when words
will hold no value, when eyes will
speak, when body will yell
when soul will reach beyond the
physical, it is that you, I yearn to know.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words


Beneath Eternal Skies

Take my hand, walk with me beneath eternal skies

a whispered sigh on the road of dreams speaks three words…i, you, us.

Sheltered beneath iridescent wings we roam free among shadows of unity

existence beyond physical form our souls entwine in a lovers embrace

beneath a celestial moon, yet my lips know not the taste upon them

a spiral nexus now apart only to resemble in passions brightest hues yet my hands

know not the touch of your silken skin,

and yet my heart knows your every touch as it beats in unison to your soft caresses

my soul is comforted i feel you like a sweet memory of home blanketed in ever morphing love…





Another kick…


Another kick and I’m down
Words slur,
days blur,
tomorrow’s out to kill me
a cockled feign,
your devils tongue
Again you scream
I’m done I’m done.
But silence never comes
freedom never follows
oh look how captivity became you
As our love lost all of its tomorrow’s.

Karen Hayward ©2018

Image found on WordPress library


Splinters of winters kisses


I fear we have


beyond repair,

too many



blood and pain

let us become

lost now

on springs


a distant wisp of

memory on

winters frost.


Karen Hayward ©2018

Image found on WordPress Library



On the cuff of love we knew no bounds

but the chains we imposed upon ourselves.

Unconditional, we ripped apart scars,

plunged our hands deep into open wounds

we tore open hearts and detonated bomb

after bomb…for love?

Unconditional, there was no pain I brought to

your palms that you could not hold, no fear of

yours that would break me…invincible,

I have the scars to prove it.

We were blind yet saw all, naive, yet wise

beyond our souls that lay desiccated in shallow

graves we dug with our bare hands.

We destroyed each other in useless words,

battles of ego wounding pride.

Yet we tended the wounds we inflicted,

we fought, lost and won as time slipped through

the glass neck bottle. I caught your every fall

you held my sobbing soul.

I once told you

I had only love.

Only now.

This moment speckled in fruitless time

and so it is,

you transcended the essence of now,

for love,


eternally holding my sobbing soul,

catching my every fall.

Love? Unconditional.

Karen Hayward © 2018

Image found on WordPress Library

To fall… 

I wanted to believe, oh how I wanted too.

I ignored the signs, the hidden titles, 

Words weaved on a vengeful tongue

pretended that I did not see

Wanted the fairytale to be… 

But not even true loves kiss

Can break this curse on me… 

As the devil calls back this soul

that was never meant to be free. 
Karen Hayward

Butterfly in a moths world


I am suffocating in the constancy of your rage,
drowning in your despair, gasping for air.
Life saturates from me, muting my energy
Zapping my life force in this captive reality.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words

Scar-less Battleground


I sometimes wonder
why I argue with you,
Why I allow words to
form in my mouth
to slip across my lips
like breath giving
me life, only giving
me death instead.
Rational thought is
the sworn enemy
to the narcissistic
soldier as you point
your arrow and shoot,
and shoot again.
Yet there is no blood,
there is no wound
yet still I wear the scars of your

Karen Hayward ©2017

To pick, to pick, to pick… 

One day I’ll tell you perhaps the way pain converts to fear deep inside of me. Some pains are too great, not worthy of the wound and disposable. A scab picked, prodded and thrown to the trash.

Some day, if pain permits, perhaps.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on pinterest. 

Lost essence staining my mind. 

I am lost in a field of missed ‘curity 

Seconds pass in the spiking of my fantasy

and the death of my hand made reality

deep in the knowledge of my fantasy, 

Lost deep in the shadows of insecurity.
Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words