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Maleficium Dictum
The Winters are getting colder
And I dread the way
The Sun bleaches my hair in the morning
and how the stars blind my eyes.
I rocked a baby in my arms the other day
And her cheek was moulded in blush-pink bruises
And the sunlight danced on her face.
I felt
Oddly content with the way the world woos its madness.
The oceans flooding padded cells in the white-washed noise of silent banging
On the doors,
The crimson check of round pegs forced into
Square holes,
And Armageddon rising from the basement
Bleached by yellow soap stains, scratching the panes.
The hopeless antics of priests slipping prayer books
Underneath the doors.
The Newspaper comes yesterday.
The Beast is hiding in the crayon Butterflies, meticulously etched on the walls and
In the coffee cups where the milk should be.
The sugar is crystallised
Ritalin, and I drink it obediently
Longingly. Waiting to be saved.
And I am still alive.
The Sun rises every morning and I am there to greet it
Laughter dancing on my face.
| Posted by Matt at 16:22 /writing # |