Friday, June 11, 2010

A call backwards in time

You sit down
With your cup of tea
To the left
As you take the
Black phone
In your hand
And you dial the numbers

It rings
Bring Bring
She picks up, the phone looks different
She sits on the divan
Her legs quite not touching the floor
In front of her is the fridge and
All around is the kitchen, 1980's style

"Hello" she says
A silent tear falls down your face
"Hi" you say, you can hear your voices
Are just about the same, one high, one low

"Who are you" she asks
"I am someone who cares" you return
"For me?" she says
And I say Yes - especially for you

And you can hear the sigh of relief
On the other end of the phone
And you say
"I know what he is doing to you"
"I know what you have tried to do"
And your eyes are steadily getting fogged
Tears running and running

You can hear her crying on the other end of the phone
"Oh mummy, he does such bad things"
"But I protect my sister and yesterday, I made her
Pony tails in her hair. We played out side
It is not so bad after all"

And you know what horror she is enduring
And you know the pain she is going through
And that tonight or today, she must face
A rapist at every corner

But for just this phone call, you know she is safe,
Talking to you on the other line
And your hand starts to tremble
You can hear her thoughts

"Can you be my mummy? and take me away"
And you wish you could
But you know all you can do
Is say - good bye and "I love you"
And as you silently hang up the phone
A call backwards in time
To my own childhood.

Sunday, June 06, 2010

A day....

For the phone is ringing
You pick it up
You hear the crying on the other end
She speaks of another
Who she thinks is badly hurting
She starts crying again
She mentions cutting
She is concerned about suicide
Something bad has happened
And you sit there listening to the person crying
Supporting them as they support another
Do you want to be there
Be prepared for what the tell you; you say
She speaks of the fright
She starts crying
You say call back any time
A day in the life of a suicide line volunteer