The darkness creeps in – Art and Poetry By Charlotte Farhan

The darkness creeps in - art and poetry by charlotte farhan
The Darkness Creeps in – By Charlotte Farhan

Hearing everyone else cry
but no one asks
tears fall easier for them
my cheeks still dry
every day adjusting masks
staring at the sun
happy to comply
the darkness creeps in.

Mother loves with conditions
distance is key
with my confused contrition
more sadness dies
ignite the family tree
save ammunition
guilt injected lies
the darkness creep in.

Privilege protects them all
the abusers
predators blame accusers
before nightfall
enablers allow for this
take it on the chin
bury it within
the darkness creeps in.

Reality is fleeting
inside nothing
never staying in focus
with eyes bleeding
letting in all the nothings
hopeless neurosis
crushing psychosis
the darkness creeps in.


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Clouding of Consciousness – Art and Poetry by Charlotte Farhan

Clouding of Consciousness by Charlotte Farhan
Clouding of Consciousness by Charlotte Farhan

Clouding of consciousness,
adaptive defence kicks in,
my mind is filled with fogginess,
thoughts start to fade into rottenness,
no longer within my own skin.

I left me so I could survive,
muted and distorted,
reality and make-believe collide,
identities become contorted,
memories remain unsorted,
personalities I must contrive.

The world becomes bottomless,
no up or down,
just godlessness,
walking through a ghost town,
life is now preparing to shutdown,
parts of me are now autonomous.

There is no sense to be made of this,
autopilot is safer than being discarded,
why would it be better to reminisce,
instead let me be transported,
away from that place still haunted,
throw me into the abyss.

Dissociation has to exist,
without it we would not have been revived,
our pain and abuse dismissed,
leading so many to suicide,
washed away with the tide,
so some of us remain inside.


 

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Everyone is Watching – Art and Poetry By Charlotte Farhan

Everyone is Watching - By Charlotte Farhan
Everyone is Watching – By Charlotte Farhan

With this unseen malady,
the world is set to a different frequency,
faces move past with only apathy,
when they can’t fit you into a box,
intelligent, irrational, focused, erratic…
you seem a paradox.

Knowing people question me,
life feels scrutinised,
under the microscope,
wishing to be disguised,
not made to walk this tightrope.

Being able to be free,
not continuously analysed,
a participant, not an absentee,
hearing my voice,
without having to be patronised,
without having to prove my disabilities,
they love to give you the third degree,
have I not proved my invincibility?

We the stigmatised,
are not your problem to fix,
not here to be tamed and civilised,
neither will I be cured by your crucifix ,
“God only gives us what we can handle”
is this a joke – a chance to poke,
superstition and dogma we must dismantle,
instead with these ideas they provoke.

Everyone is watching me,
no longer left alone to recover,
my life is not something you can disagree,
they want to rip it away – uncover,
these things you can’t see,
no one would want this,
so with this plea,
stop watching me.


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Make it Stop – Art and Poetry by Charlotte Farhan

Make it Stop - Art and Poetry by Charlotte Farhan
Make it Stop – Art and Poetry by Charlotte Farhan

Waking up,
whipping eyelids open in panic,
heartbeats pound at my chest,
a frame of mind completely manic,
inside is emptiness,
depressed,
with nausea rising as if volcanic,
anxieties flood and infest,
unwanted thoughts,
borderline satanic,
the compulsions arise,
obsessed,
a lump in my throat,
gigantic,
memories pushed down,
repressed.


 

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Deflower – Poetry and Art by Charlotte Farhan

Deflower by Charlotte Farhan
Deflower by Charlotte Farhan
The room lost light in the darkening hour,
faced with the rawness of masculinity,
sheer force of primal desire,
the need to overpower.
Purity is artificial,
confused with naivety,
acts of aggression begin,
no words spoken just acts of taking,
in a flash of violence I cower,
this is my fault – my femininity.
Parts of me were devoured,
like a wolf ripping open its prey,
no culpability,
laying on my back praying to the holy trinity.
This did happen to the wallflower,
washing my skin imagining holy water,
searching for divinity,
this was more than purification,
sobbing in this shower.
Having not lost my virginity,
it was not misplaced,
it was taken,
it is not romanticism,
they cut off heads,
they deflower,
they dis-empower.
Art and Poetry by Charlotte Farhan

 


 

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This Body Survived – Art and Poetry By Charlotte Farhan

This Body Survived - By Charlotte Farhan
This Body Survived – By Charlotte Farhan
Since my first awareness of inhabiting this body,
my knowledge was somewhat confused,
feeling detached – sensations running through me,
seemingly rational when your anatomy is used,
with unwanted attention and unwanted affection,
with bruises and cuts – now an absentee,
apparently this carcass is a gift,
it feels removed – adrift,
terrified,
but this body survived.

Poetry and Art By Charlotte Farhan

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Time to Breathe – Art and Poetry By Charlotte Farhan

Time to breathe - By Charlotte Farhan
Time to breathe – By Charlotte Farhan

Time to breathe is a luxury,
many do not have the privilege,
a condition for recovery,
confused often with forgiveness.

Time ticks faster – lungs clench,
pressure mounts further inside,
enemies to avenge,
memories like cyanide.

There is no freedom from this tyranny,
like vines weaving through the undergrowth,
holding you to the earth – in captivity,
the past is like a murderer – cutthroat.

Time to breathe is not possible when dead,
life is your only time to salvage your liberty,
the story which follows is still unread,
the chance to respire remains a possibility.

This Little Girl – Art and Poetry By Charlotte Farhan

I saw a little girl and she was sat in the dark,

I watched her through a window as she sat there alone,

the little girl had a lighter and was trying to create a spark,

where her parents were – was still unknown.

 

I pressed my face up close to see into her eyes,

however her hair was like a veil,

this was an armour – a disguise,

you would only see her face in a strong gale.

 

This little girl put down her lighter,

she gently walked over to the window,

I felt eager to save her and invite her,

My aim to rescue – to become her hero.

 

We placed our hands against each others,

up against the glass – so close but so distant,

it was clear neither of us had been mothered,

the girl and I pulled away – becoming resistant.

 

Our pain was too engulfing – too present,

my shame swept over me – I stepped back,

the little girl returned to her torment,

the air became cold – the little girl faded into pitch black.

 

This Little Girl - By Charlotte Farhan
This Little Girl – By Charlotte Farhan

 

 

 

 

 

 

Predatory Mind – By Charlotte Farhan – Art to End the Silence on Rape

Predatory Mind - By Charlotte Farhan
Predatory Mind – By Charlotte Farhan

 

Predatory Mind – By Charlotte Farhan

They – the predators, always in plane sight,
some think they emerge from shadows,
dancing with the devil in the moonlight,
alas most are under one’s nose,
most are known to you or I,
our Fathers, Brothers, partners, class mates,
hard for others to identify,
when others finally see – they deprecate.

They pretend to love you,
but they will push you down to dominate,
negating, hostile, broody – but we make do,
there is no other option with this mental state,
the predatory mind is here – locked in taboo,
memories are tombstones left to desecrate,
no open fields here – to run through,
left dangling on a hook like live bait.


 

Poetry and art by Charlotte Farhan, for any further details please fill in the form below…

 


 

Between States – Poetry by Charlotte Farhan

Safe Place - By Charlotte Farhan
Safe Place – By Charlotte Farhan

Between States

Closing my eyes,
seeing emptiness, however endless,
hearing sounds of days already had,
voices of lonely goodbyes.

In cornfields we escaped,
laying in beautiful memories beneath future possibilities,
Time is only relevant to my existence,
numbers, hands, faces – clocks stop.

Pendulous over my metaphorical cliff.
Blue surrounds me,
mist kisses me as tears precipitates,
waves crashing below.

Dreaming takes forever,
passing hours – drifting.
Life tries to wake me with flickers of light,
clasping tightly at the reigns of this delusion.

The breeze carries a scent with it,
brushing my hair against my face,
familiarity sinks into the pit of my stomach,
I know this place.
This residence has no name,
no directions given, or maps written.
Stepping through a cerebral maze,
with the house getting further away.

This world between states,
of mind and power.
My consciousness hesitates,
not wanting to let me go.

 


 

Between States - By Charlotte Farhan
Between States – By Charlotte Farhan

Art and Poetry by Charlotte Farhan

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