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Not Longing for Familiarities

I want no more,
no more of these empty plates,
how they starve me of heedless hope.

I long no more,
no more the promises of yester years,
how the perculate my blood boiling.

I hear no more,
no more of those lies you filled us with,
how they stole my childhood carelessly.

I feel no more,
no more those hands barating me abusively,
how they pounded my body battered.

I see no more,
no more the broken glasses flung in air,
how they aimed at us all accordingly.

I fear no more,
no more my mother's madness in random rage,
how her loveless emotes daily derail me.

I weep no more,
no more of tears in fears of frantic fighting,
how my crying carries more hardened hurting.

I touch no more,
no more the walls and ground in driven force,
how they carved similar scars in our family's faces.

I beg no more,
no more in vain of pain not juried or justified,
how scared was I, a child in hiding held.

I love no more,
no more a family I should forget in all these horrors,
how they cared less of blood in situations stained.
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Submitted on June 01, 2012

59 sec read

Jessie Ní Leacaí Claim this poet

I'm an Irish speaker, Belfast based. I design hats and headpieces in the wonderful art of millinery. I enjoy science, culture,art, music and have an affinity with the sea. I use 'big words' so invest in a dictionary when reading my poetry. I tolerate no ignorance more…

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