I Moved to Hell? (Part 3)

1984 – ’85, the 8th grade. The next two poems I wrote back then are marked in my journal as written in 8th grade, but I wonder if I actually meant 1984 as in late 7th grade? The reason I am unsure is that;

1) I don’t remember what inspired them at all

2) They are of a much lighter tone than most of the others written during that time period, and

3) They don’t fit in with any of the memories I do have

I suppose it isn’t really that big of a deal but, it bugs me. All these conflicting memories, and giant holes; this is my life! Shouldn’t I know what happened? What was and what wasn’t? Ah, but you see, that is a huge part of my story, and of why I describe myself as broken. It’s not just a label slapped on because I’m a victim of abuse, although, yeah, that’s part of it…

I’m jumping again; so much to tell! Let me try to slow down. I’m just over excited by the fact that I’m actually able to write anything. I can’t even begin to explain… well that’s not true. I sort of do explain a little in some posts under my Random Thoughts category… anyway, I’ve been unable to put anything to paper or screen in a long time. None of us could, it was simply impossible. And it was killing us. So I’m so excited, I can barely keep all the thoughts clear enough to know which go where! But I’ll keep trying and doing my best!

So here we go again… The next poem I wrote after Imagination was “The Sounds and Signs of Nature” followed by “Smile” and “The Gift of Love”.

The Sounds and Signs of Nature


Have you ever tried

to figure out in your mind

the meaning of all

Nature’ sounds and signs?


The howling of the wind,

and the rains quiet whine.

It could be almost anything,

Like Mother Natures’ grateful cry.


The roar of the thunder,

And the lightning’s happy crack,

Could be Father Nature on bowling night

Making a rejoiceful sounding comeback.


The bright and sunny days

When Mother Nature starts to bake;

the scent from all her goodies

in the air we gladly intake.


There are many interpretations

of nature’s doing; warm and cold.

The sounds and signs of Nature,

and all the different stories told.

Copyright ©1984





Have you ever walked down the street,

and seen someone looking sad;

so you gave them a cheerful smile,

and suddenly they were glad?


Have you ever been all alone

Feeling really blue,

then someone gave you a smile,

and you were smiling too?


A smile is something special,

something we’re all lucky to have.

But if we aren’t careful how we use it,

it could make somebody mad.

Copyright ©1984



The Gift of Love


Love is a wondrous gift

One that is shared by all.

A gift that brings us closer

to others,

and shows a sign of happiness

in the world.


Without this gift,

where would we be?

Filled with nothing but hatred,

And never seeing the worlds’

true beauty.


But thanks to this gift,

we are allowed to be happy.

Allowed to be caring,

And allowed to be loved.

Copyright ©1984

These were during the summer of 1984, but that is all I can remember. That was an unpleasant time for me, and I blocked out most of it. I remember being betrayed by a girl name Joy and another name Marie; a crush on a boy name Chris. I played softball and my mom was the coach! I used to draw well, but stopped. And I was raped.

The next group of poems I wrote is of a rather sad tone starting with “Do I Exist?”,

Do I Exist?


Can anyone hear me?

Does anyone care?

I feel like I’m all alone,

fighting the world in a war.


I always seem to mess things up.

Hurting people I love,

And people I care for;

is there any way out?


I don’t want a war,

between my family and friends;

or the people around me

whether I know them or not.


All I ever wanted

was to make people happy;

to cheer up their day

when they’re feeling blue.


Am I wrong to hate anger?

All the fighting in the world?

It serves no purpose,

but to hurt people very dear.


Am I wrong to hate sadness?

All the tear causing pain?

What purpose does it have,

but to bring pain unto others?


Yet here I am

Doing what I hate;

angering others

Family and friends.


There are times I wish

I didn’t exist;

there are times I wonder

if I even do.


But someday I know.

Everything will change,

the world will finally be happy,

and will finally live in peace.


All my questions

will finally be answered,

and all my mixed up feelings

Finally unconfused.

Copyright ©1984 KMS

which was followed by “When I Cry”;


When I Cry


My cries are different

from everyone else.

Sometimes aloud,

releasing built-up anger.

Sometimes inside,

building the anger.


I cry very often

when I’m lonely or sad.

But no matter the reason,

what it might possibly be,

they’re never the same

as others around me.


Nobody’s cries are exactly the same,

they were meant to be different.

But everyone’s cries

in one way or another,

Has at least one small trait

In common with others.


But not one of mine.

Every last one is different.

In every way I see a tear drop,

and every sound I hear them make;

my cries are different from everyone


Down to their very last trait.


I’ve always felt different,

not like all my friends,

Just totally out-of-place.

But when I cry, I get a feeling

I may have some hope;

I end up no longer believing.


Will the day ever come

when I’ll finally fit in?

When I’ll stop feeling unwanted

by friends and by kin?

When I’ll stop hiding my feelings

Tightly locked up with-in?


When I cry aloud

I won’t stand out?

When I cry inside

It’ll be a quiet song?

When I cry alone

it’ll be ‘cause I belong?

Copyright ©1985

and finally “Happy or Sad?”. 

Happy Or Sad?


I’m told there’s not a person alive

who’s never been happy

or never been sad.


I’m told there’s not a person in the world

who’s never loved,

or never been loved.


I’m told there’s not a person on Earth

who has no friends,

or has no enemies.


But I’ve never been told

by anyone I know,

that anyone can feel like me.


There are times

When I’m happy and laughing,

yet I’m always feeling sad.


There are times

When I love many people;

yet I feel like no one loves me.


There are times

when I know my friends are many;

yet I feel like they’re outnumbered

by my enemies.


I often wonder,

Am I the only one?

Or could someone else actually feel

like me?


Do I stand alone

With mixed up emotions,

Or could my feelings be shared by



Will I ever know

The answers I need,

To have normal feelings like others

around me?

Copyright ©1985

I remember running away from home a few times, my older even went with one of the times to look out for me. It was right after the rape; our mom had yelled at me for being out of the apartment where the black man could grab me, and I think Todd got yelled at for not being there to protect me. {It was a very bad time, and everyone reacted wrong, but I do want to say this: I no longer hold this against my mama. This hurt us badly for a time, because no one knows how to react when something like this happens. But the three of us today, we are better than good. Love is an awesome thing, and forgiveness rocks too. 🙂} I withdrew from things a lot after that. I kept to myself a bit; I had 2 really close friends, Karen Coffey and Roxanne Thompson. We did everything together. And I was always reading; no one ever saw me anywhere without a book. This was when Karen introduced me to S.E. Hinton who introduced me to Robert Frost. WOW! What a man of words!! Is there any lover of poetry that didn’t love “Nature’s First Green Is Gold”? To this day I still remember every word of that poem! It was the poem that inspired the first of my personal favorites, one I was really proud of, the first I wanted to share!

However, I’m jumping way ahead again, lol. The order of the work is accurate, but lots of events that I actually remember be missing.

So alright, let’s back up to that night when Todd and I ran away; so much of this is really hazy and yet as I try focusing, it’s more than I’ve remembered in 20 years. That’s a semi-good sign, right? My friends Karen and Chris Niosi were with us, they had been over to the apartment hanging out with Todd and I. I’m pretty sure Chris liked Karen at the time, but I don’t remember for certain. Anyway, we went to Chris’ place first, we might have even crashed there as he was one of my friends whose numbers my folks didn’t have (by folks I am referring to my mom and Skip who was her boyfriend at that time, and things between him, Todd and I tended to be strained). I later found out that everyone, including Todd, was keeping in touch with their folks while we were gone and merely watching over me as I was in a fragile state of mind. I can appreciate it now, but back then I really resented them all for it.

{Coffee break}

Now, this is the time period when things start getting hazy for me; I began carving into my arms and I thought about suicide all the time. I also began smoking pot and drinking on a more regular basis.

Hmm… the story certainly appears to be taking on a life of its own, does it not? I feel it pertinent to mention at this point that:

  • I was molested as a very small child
  • I was already well acquainted with both pot and alcohol before this point of the story
  • I already showed signs of a ‘personality disorder’ at the age of 5 before the initial diagnosis at age 14

The rest of the school year was hell; I know I wrote quite a few pieces but, I had written them on loose-leaf paper and kept them in a folder which I then proceeded to lose. To this day I’m still so peeved at myself for that! Somebody around that time gave me a journal which I began to copy my entire poem collection into with a Table of Contents and everything. After that, I never lost another piece of work again, I don’t think? 😉 And I began writing quite a bit.

After that year and all the Hell (continued fighting between myself, my mom and Skip) we all went through and continued to go through, I ended up spending the summer with my Aunt Kay helping her take care of her two kids Dawnell whom was 5, and Paul whom was 3. I loved these kids like they were my own. Kay let me smoke, drink and get high. I thought I was in Heaven! My Hell just switched locations.

But that is part of the next Chapter!

So, until we meet again!..


 ♥ ♥ ♥ ~ Kyla ~ ♥ ♥


2 responses to “I Moved to Hell? (Part 3)

  1. Kyla,
    You tale does jump around often, but I can tell it is an uneasy tale to tell, and you seem to be very candid. Your enthusiasm is also very apparent. I look forward to reading more of the story.

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