Elephant Girl

My heart, the elephant
of my fate, broken and painful
stumbling through this journey,

without a herd,
without compassion,
without a lover,

I walk through hot coals laid for me
by you, singing my skin, you stare,
until I burn, you turn and go.

But I am the strength
I need in your aftermath
to rise again.

-L.J. Lenehan


Tied at the kitchen sink,
screams captured, by the ceiling –
photos in the sitting room tell a different story.

Tears unseen,
all that was left was a girl in a box,
buried alive, if only she’d been oxygenated.

Once a sweet peach,
everyone peered in, murmuring:
‘what happened to her?’

Wails of what they might say –
if only there was one more day,
the sun might rise – she might see it differently,

But the horrific truth:
he would not find happiness,
not until he had her in a box.

-L.J. Lenehan-


Like a ghost at my bed three a.m.
haunts the spot my heart used to be.

In a room that echoes vacant night time
chats, I think of eternity in purgatory.

Locked in a rhymeless room with no view,
no paintings, no sheets, no floor, no air –

only a roof and four walls, screaming perpetually –
no one can hear

I suffer through a time without an end.

-L.J. Lenehan-

Longevity is fated

pizzaIt’s late, my head throbs,
your face has drained of colour,
if only, I could rest my head –
you might believe for a while
I always loved you.

Problems faded away at your death bed,
all I could remember was, for better or worse,
you joked, I’m here for the better,
I laughed, not knowing worse would be a frequenter.
I’m tired now, but promises from the start

remind us both – till death do we part,
suspicions aside, there is no denying
longevity is fated with an end in everything
if there has been no ending, it is in fact,
not over.

-L.J. Lenehan-

On the blooming daffodils of April,
rain chaotically falls,
each drop, hesitantly anticipated
like the breath of a dying man,
failing hearts identify,
with the disorganization of spring,
what luxury:
a summer that understands sun,
a chat with one’s forsaken father ,
a permanent autumn,
a memory of childhood dreams,
a winter that only snows for show,
a future without impending death.

-L.J. Lenehan-

And like all souls in pain
I cannot say what Hell awaits
on a sightless day

Memories of joys and sorrows sewn
remain buried in my veins of unknown regrets
silence is the chosen legacy

what can be said of a soul that strayed?
Neither good nor bad but a victim
of the human condition

not quite dead, not quite alive
I cannot say if Heaven awaits
on this blackest of nights

-L.J. Lenehan-


a winter’s evening, all that she had, all that she was
fits in a black bag

faults easily forgiven, shortcomings the butt of every joke
eccentric, a character murmured through tears and laughter
her boldness forgotten after us

not famous, nor rich, important only to the five of us,
we hated her for drinking, for our hungry, cold nights,
first in the door ever evening felt the horror of being
her biggest burden of the day

bastards all of us, he ran off and left us to the rumours
our childhood hiding places, vivid in her absence
where fantasies went wild of what our lives would be
when we were older, when we were free,
when life would be better

discretion was our life, no one should know
how much she drank, scrubbed with a brillo for school,
a slice of bread for lunch, in mass every Sunday
with money for the priest, charity for those in need,
bruises where no one could see, vengeance
if a word passed our lips

on this winter’s evening as we laugh and we cry
sorting her things we know she lived for us
no one knew she was sick not wanting to burden us
the way we burdened her, her struggles finally gone,
her spirit living in the five chosen to be of her
and she has left the world the way she came into it
with nothing



Walk-with-Angels-PRINT-SM-Amy-Whitefish fell from the sky
the same night as I left
my body

a tornado they said
though none was recorded
in the world of knowledge
I like the challenge of belief

from above a burdened frame
I do not wish to return
to a body saved by charcoal
but our angel appears

the graffiti is clear
written about me
my life saved
but I must watch

slaughters during another day
struggle with the pain
of a sorrowful life
learn my own peace

-L.J. Lenehan-