12 – Books & Sentences (2020)

Following the Prompt for Hour 12 (2020 – Half) using Deborah Duffield’s memoir: “Imprisoned in a Body with a Life Sentence” (abuse survival). {TRIGGER WARNING!!}


Life began at age 3 –
but only with 1/2 of the glee;
It began with a pain,
I could not foresee.

Now I know,
where I shouldn’t be –
Pain teaches the most
to me;

And I learn all the ways,
That I cannot be myself.

Can I help myself?
Only lifetimes later;
Because ONE person,

Noticed the most,
finally listened to me.

“My life began at age 3 1/2.”
“I know now most of the ways to help myself.”

Support links (Canada, USA, Australia):
1. https://crcvc.ca/for-victims/services/ 🇨🇦
2. https://www.removingchains.org/resources/usa-hotlines 🇺🇸
3. https://aifs.gov.au/cfca/topics/child-abuse-and-neglect/resources 🇦🇺

🖤 BLM:
+ http://blackchildlegacy.org/resources/child-abuse-and-neglect/

* 🌎 Global crisis line: https://yourlifecounts.org/find-help/
* National Resources: 
* https://isurvive.org/helpful-resources/abuse-survivor-resources-usa-canada/

🏳️‍🌈 LGBTQ: https://www.loveisrespect.org/is-this-abuse/abusive-lgbtq-relationships/

🙅🏻🙅🏾‍♂️ Men (male victims):
+ https://aasas.ca/support-and-information/men-and-sexual-assault/

~ This list is not exhaustive. Keep safe, reach out. You and your future are worth the recovery.

11 – “Space Unexplored”: H.J, 2020 ©️

Dreaming of you,
in technicolor hue –
Beaming with the peace
of today’s Freedom.

Reborn once again,
out from Ashes,
of Hellfire’s spread.

Australia –
You’ve lead,
Me toward the end,
of my strain.

Your accessible shores,
Beckon with a Siren’s call that warns,
of wonton survival.

Leaving is vital –
In you I see;
My pain was not in vain,
That there’s more to life for me.

When I close my eyes,
It’s Australia I see.

©️ 2020: Prompted.
I do have a book title that supports relief efforts 🇦🇺 View link , if interested. (#authorHJ).

Hour 9 – 2020, H.J ©️ (Prompted).

I watch the firefly zoom along the treeline;
And become inspired,
To drop my mask.

Change happens fast –
And I welcome it;

May it nourish me,
Like the milk in a bottle,
of a babe’s New Beginning.

©️ Prompt 7 – 2020, H.J – “Season of the Dream”

Following Hour 7’s Prompt (2020)
”Season of the Dream” by H.J ©️


The winds of change are brewing –
Trading out Fall’s leaves for Summer’s dew;
but playing roulette with a virus or two!

Summer’s dream is not how it seems;
But delays don’t mean denials.

Amid the rolling greens of Vanity,
And the lost seas of Sanity,
We find pause and new perspective –
Which brings Clarity

And stronger amity,
Toward what matters most.

The season of The Dream,
had not a fairytale theme;
as it seems,

We are better for it.

Hour 6: “With You (2020)” – Prompted, H.J ©️

Hour 6: Inspired by the Prompt.
©️ H.J / 2020 – “With You”.

With you,

I am complete;

A day with you, 
Soothes my heartbeat.

With you,
alone in retreat,
Chaos is lost – 

Replaced with whispers so sweet.

Here in the stillness,
I find you,
We meet;

As twin souls – 
Wholesome and complete,
Adding joyous highs,
so sweet!

In melodic laugher,
we close a chaper
of this day.

Sharing time with you,
is always my favourite form
of play.

Hour 5 – Image Prompt (2020) H.J

The dawn of the day,
sweeps my worries away –
And sheds light on some dreams long forgotten.

Sullen no more;
I am ready for
the quest.

Prepared to do my best,
And reach the highest peaks.

When the sun retreats,
I will not cry;
For I know I am left with,
the bright
expansive sky.

with renewed purpose,
And fuelled by many verses
in this chorus of life:

Astounds me, surrounds me:

The dawn of this day,
Sweeps my past away,
And I begin again –
with new strength and new purpose,

Just around the bend.

Hour 3 (2020, Original) – “The Human Chase”

This is not in “The Bop” style, as the Official Prompt suggests; but it does discuss many current world problems. So, I hope this may suffice. {Potential Trigger Warning!!}


THE HUMAN CHASE – By: H.J / author H.J ©️

They only love me when I’m beaming,
only love me when I’m strong;
they only love me when I am standing on equal sides of wrong.

They will hate me for my lover and they’ll hate me for my voice;
They’ll hate me for my body,
for my peace
and for my choice.

They’ll hate me for my gender and the way I keep my hair.
They’ll hate when I show up
and they will hate when I’m not there.

They will hate me for my space
and for all my boundaries too;
They’ll hate that I won’t let them in and hate my passion when I do.

They’ll hate me for my Faith;
for my culture, shade of skin.
They’ll hate me for my parents,
Mother’s tongue and origin –
They’ll hate my primal randoms, when I never had a say.
They’ll hate it when I try and they’ll hate when I don’t play.

They will hate me for my courage, they will hate me for my fear.
They’ll hate me for my rest,
hate my optimism and career –
They’ll hate me for my apathy,

for my tears and for my cheer;

They’ll hate all my success
and hate each idle,
passing year.

They’ll hate me for my freedom;
and for seclusion, too –
They will hate when I’m not me and they’ll hate that I’m not you.

They’ll hate my education and
although I try to learn;
They’ll hate what I don’t know
and claim I ‘want’ to watch things burn.

They will hate me for my clothes,
for my safety and my woes.
They’ll hate me for ideas,
for my story
and my prose.

They’ll hate me for my money,
for my house and for my kids;
They will hate me for my street post and because I sleep on skids.

They’ll hate on my redemption and will hate me for my sin.
They’ll hate each point of wisdom,
and when I don’t know where to begin.

They will hate it when I share; and keep calling it a bluff –
Then they hate when I deplete and shout ‘it still isn’t enough!’.

They will hate me when I’m hungry;
and for anything I eat,
They’ll hate me when I’m healthy; and any rough day of the week.

They will hate me for my wheelchair,
all my aids,
and my legs, too;

They will hate each type of function;
What I can and cannot do.

If the goal is ‘never’ hate; then why keep choosing to?
History is gone, until we bring it into view –
but can we consciously remember;
without being toxic, too?

More hate will only perpetuate
the loss and lack we hope to satiate;
The patterns in each corner
mean this pain may never end –
They will hate and hate and shake and break;
Taking pieces ‘til I’m dead.

In the name of ‘vengeful mourning’,
They’ll repeat The Chase again.


2020 Introduction – H.J / #authorHJ

Hi, all!

Happy to be here – with much thanks to Caitlin & Jacob for everything. I wish everyone the best, throughout this process 🥳💖🕯

This is my second running. I hope to be completing another Half, this year. This piece is my personal favourite, from last season.

A little about me: My roots begin in Poetry, but I am an author of multiple genres at this point. I’ve been professionally published since 2014. “H.J” is a pseudonym based on my first & middle name initials.
My books and published works are known to blend fiction with mental health and social justice topics.

I am from Canada; most recently am an Honours Grad of College-level Social Sciences and hopes to further my studies in Australia, post-COVID.

I have an insatiable love for coffee (iced vanilla, anyone?) and would not be able to go on without it – Remember to stay fuelled, nourished and hydrated through this process.

Thanks again and I do look forward to connecting with you all.
Happy writing! Cheers!

H.J / 2020 ©️♿️

Dear Self (Early teen) – H.J ©️

2019 – 11th Hour
In response to the Prompt ©️ H.J

~ Dear Self ~

You sit by the window,
Unsure of what is to come for you.

For now,
You’ve been a martyr.

Each took their piece,
That’s true,
But we still fall in love with you.

Brave, bright and beautiful!
Chants everyone who
Can see through the fog
to the light that is you.

So sit by the window;
Unafraid to let go –
For there is more gold
than you’ve ever been told,

Freedom! –
And distant plans,
So bold.

And the purest love
That you’ll have ever known!