Running dry… the rain that continues to fall
I find my thoughts ever yearning for something, someone
Struggling to make beautiful words out of ugly thoughts
Labouriously trying to rewire the connections wrought
So deeply conditioned
Suspicions buried deep in my head
Destroy peace of mind
Make a trap of my bed
I can’t seem to stop looking for betrayal
The smallest things claw at my guts
Am I just one of the parade
A momentary diversion
Waking alone with horrible dreams
A lover with two knives one in each hand
Reaching to hug me with those knives held aloft
Ready to plunge in my back even as his mouth seeks mine
Running dry… no poetry
Alone with these thoughts
The horrific losses
Rain is falling endlessly
Alone I grieve
The loss of me

~ kei
26 April 2014


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National Poetry Writing Month

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I Do The Time For His Crime

Hello. My name is Karin and I am a survivor of Narcissist Abuse.

It is three and one half months since I implemented full “No Contact”.

I’ve alluded to it, danced around it, written poetry that skims the surface  of it. Today, I had to face more of the fallout that seems never ending at times. Today, I want to shout it. Is it my fault that this monster took over my life? Yes. If being empathetic, seeing the good in people and wanting to help someone makes it my fault. Rather like, missing the last bus home from a late college class and having to walk a dark path alone would make it a person’s fault for being mugged or worse.

My home was listed for sale late yesterday.

The home that I worked most of my adult life for. The one that would have been paid off by the end of this year. The home that still contains items that are mine, including some of my dearest memories. The sofa and loveseat in my favourite colours of lilac and sage. Our Christmas decorations, collected over the years. My carefully chosen crèche, with my son’s werewolf action toy because we are that kind of crazy family.

Would this sale not be happening if I’d been able to dodge the Narc’s bullet?

Retrospect says yes. Like many couples, we had trials and tribulations that frayed our bond badly. A very troubled child and the pressure cooker emotions that go with that. It is fair to say that I was ripe for the plucking by a man who was skilled in deception. It is more than fair to say that had that man not manipulated and lied to the almost unfathomable extent he did, I would not be in the middle of dissolving what has been my world for more than half my life. Am I a foolish girl who had a pretty picture dangled in front of her and just ran to the next shiny? Not even a little bit. Only the most arrogant and condescending of fools would entertain a thought like that. No. My life was carefully and methodically broken down and rebuilt by someone who borders on psychopath. Weasling in under false pretenses, mining for information and then carefully deconstructing the most intimate aspects of me. Right from the foods I like, my choices in friends to dictating how I should approach personal adornment and even my choices in hair removal. The lies are endless, almost surreal in their nature, substantiated with a few random facts scattered about, enough to maintain the charade until the bitter end. The mask came off, the women revealed, the manipulation of them, the hiding, the blocking, the stalking, the slander. Oh hell yes, the slander. I walked away from the insanity and consequently, must be punished by having my good name, both personal and professional, sullied by this monster.

Why am I writing this?

To get my mind off things, I decided to unpack a box of books. A year later, in the apartment that I thought I’d be sharing with the Monster, I thought I’d do that. The box contained many books I’ve cherished since I was a child but it also had the books that I so carefully selected as a young mother for my two beautiful children. The two most important people in the world to me, who no longer have the home base they grew up in. I’ve been weeping like a child myself for the last hour and I want this poison out.

If this white-hot rage could be laser targeted; that filthy, lying piece of shit would be dead.

That his life goes on, that he continues to play his games and is not only supported but lauded is the most horrific miscarriage of Justice that I can imagine. That people online know and do nothing is unconscionable. To date, women flock to him and only one has had the courage to contact me. It’s so much easier to believe the outlandish lies and complete fabrications of a male than to send a two-line inquiry to the target of his slander.

What was my crime?

I was at a low point in my life. Separated and vulnerable. I was offered what I believed was a chance for love and happiness that had long eluded me. Not a faerytale, a nice life that would include my kids, my family. They know this person. I fell in love with the Grand Illusion. Nothing about this man is what he seems. Nothing. All Photoshop, fake profiles, stolen words and stolen dreams. I would have needed joint custody granted for the ring he proposed to put on my finger.

What is my point?

My life has been utterly decimated by a Narcissist Abuser. I did not know that the term Narcissist meant more than just an egotistical or self-absorbed person or that Narcs are pathological liars. I am a smart and well-educated woman. I don’t believe in faerytales that don’t include unicorns and I grew up with the Internet. I did not invite this Predator into my life, the monster found , groomed and manipulated my life the better to take advantage. Narcs are dangerous and all the more so because of the supply the get from Empaths and the support by default they get from Apaths. I own my part in this. I have a good heart that didn’t see evil. So tell me, where is his accountability in this? Why is he allowed to continue destroying lives?

The next target has already been acquired.

~ kei


If you made it this far, bless you for reading this highly uncharacteristic post. I am intensely private and protective of my personal life in the normal course of things. The gaping wound was reopened this morning and I had to speak, despite previous threats. If one good thing can come of this, I hope it’s that the links I post for both informational purposes and to provide concrete help are being read and shared. Too little is known about the pathological aspects of Narcissism and too few people look beyond the mask of the abusers to see the nightmares they create.

If you suspect you’re involved with a Narc, please do yourself the favour of reading Kim Saeed’s blog “Let Me Reach and also reading a very well known expert on this subject, Sam Vaknin PhD, at his website and found on Facebook.

Knowledge is power.

Not Fooled

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Fool me once, Shame on you

Fool me twice, Shame on me

At least I’m in good company!

Some sort of fucked up club this is

The cast off, crazy bitches of his

And yet

Not so crazy, can’t you see?

‘Cause we are the many

And he is just he

~ kei

1 April 2014

The Fool

The Fool



National Poetry Writing Month

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Jealousy Kills ~ Friday Fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers prompt for 28 March 2014.

What is Friday Fictioneers? Rochelle presents a challenge to write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end, based upon a picture that she provides on her blog.

Here is today’s picture prompt (below).

Jealousy Kills

Word Count: 100

Genre: Fiction

Friday Fictioneers Prompt for 28 March 2014

Friday Fictioneers Prompt for 28 March 2014

The girl, who wasn’t really a girl anymore, walked rapidly toward the edge of the green woods; searching the gathering dusk for a glimpse of her tall, dark-haired future.

The boy, who wasn’t really a boy anymore, watched her through the veil of green, waiting in happy impatience, car keys and a ring, quietly jingling in his pocket.

The girl, who wasn’t really in her right mind anymore, stepped from behind the boy. Red hair in tangles, blue eyes crazed.

Too late, the green-eyed girl saw the gun blaze and watched in horror as her lover crumpled to the mossy dirt.

~ kei

27 March 2014

The Tale Of Raven Felle II

A reblog of a previously posted piece so that I can include this amazing reading / music accompaniment video by Omnia. If you’ve never heard “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe recited, or even if you have; Omnia gives the words a depth that makes them even more relatable. Well worth a listen,

I am a huge fan of Poe. His words have resonated with me since my very early teens. “… Raven…” pays a nod to one of his better known pieces in the last line. As my posts have evolved in the last year, to include more pictures and video, this seemed the perfect pairing.

Thank you to Patty over at petitemagique for introducing me to Omnia. I see a lot of new music on my iPod in the future.


The Tale Of Raven Felle

I gave my heart to a human man, and though I loved him well
He couldn’t stay true to vows we made, said he could not dwell
Weep for me my feathered children, I cannot be as I was before
Return to the sky with us they call, but sayeth Raven, “Nevermore”

(c) KeiB 20 December 2011





World Poetry Day Musings

World Poetry Day
And I’ve nothing to say

My tongue trips over itself
And my words run away

A Poet without a muse
I’ve been destroyed by a ruse

Opened a vein for him and the words bled out
Body and soul have been too long without

There isn’t any more poetry
No complex beauty in things I see


I wish Karma
Want Justice

I want someone who is real
I want to rise above this


Give me back those things that you stole from me
My life, my home, my security

Give me back my faith in Love, women and men
That may cure my Poetry and heal my pen

~ kei
21 March 2014

Crime Scene by Sage Vaughn

Tears of a butterfly, crime scene witness. I cannot unsee all your ugliness…

21 March 2014 – World Poetry Day

Green Eyes Gone

There are oceans of sadness, that are caught in just one tear

Do you see the ghosts that haunt me whenever you draw near

It’s easy to find the tender spots, they’re reflected in my eyes

Like a waterfall of emptiness, of loss, betrayal and lies

In their emerald depths look deeply, fronds of seaweed abound

They call to you so sweetly, heed their siren call and drown

I waiver on this precipice, do I leap to the depths below

Dare I hope you’d mourn my loss, when you see that I’ve let go

~ kei

6 March 2014

Green Eyes Waterfall 2009

For Sale / Obituaries

One bed. Pillow top. Double. (a Queen wouldn’t fit through the narrow hall and doorway of this apartment)

Gently used (unlike my heart)

Dimensions: 137 cm × 191 cm (remember joking your feet would hang out the bottom)

May need to spot clean some teardrops or two thousand (three, four, five thousand)

There is a slight scorch mark on your side, the right hand side (where my laptop lay beside me every night)

There may be a scorch mark on my side (where temporary long-distance didn’t keep us apart)

Perhaps the memory foam holds the imprint of my body (wrapped round the screen where you slept every night)

The echo of your voice is caught in the weft of the threads (Baby, I sleep better when you’re here with me)

I know I hear my voice there every night that I lay down (Goodnight Beautiful One, I’m watching over you)

Lately though, I can’t sleep. I hear other whispered voices (Goodnight Jane, Goodnight Josephine, Goodnight Big Red)

They wake me up screaming and holding my head (the voices of the strangers that you brought into my bed)

My nightmares stay with me, all day they attack (tell me who was behind the screen, when the screen went black)


Will deliver

~ kei
5 March 2014

mac in bed


It’s all too easy these days…
To put on Lana’s haunting version of “Once upon a Dream”
~ Aurora is my Disney princess
To put on a long white dress and pull out my wedding album
~ My real dress is long gone
To curl up around what was my life on the cold wood floor
~ Do I deserve a more comfortable bed?
I deserve nothing more than these endless days and black empty nights
I want to fall asleep in this nightmare that I created
And wake up in the life that I tossed away for nothing
Or never wake up again
Led astray by the beautiful eyes of a basilisk
Beguiled by promises
Betrayed by illusions
While my mind replays, replays, replays
“You’ll love me at once, the way you did once, upon a dream…”

~ kei
5 February 2014


I awoke and found that your faith in me was gone
And I knew that I’d been fooling myself all along

I sat alone in the dark and inhaled the fragrance
Of dead hopes and firebombed dreams
No today and no more tomorrows
No more, I prayed as I slipped to my knees in the silence

Everybody warned me, your heart was impossible to hold
Shattered and broken, left too long in the cold

I didn’t listen, all I could see was you… You?
Or just the shadowed mirror that you allowed me to see?
Letting me hope, pray only to rip me apart like the one before
Disdaining my love, like it had never existed

I run the edge of the note that I found over my left wrist
Not even a goodbye, no farewell kiss

Alone in the dark, when love dies
The murderer is never there to see his handiwork
And the thin, red line… fades to black


~ kei