stay with me, don't turn
your cold hands from my feeble flesh.
the boogeyman is underneath
the bed again, and tonight,
no stick will tear him out.

i've been ingested, digested, and
purged by your indulgences.
nightly, i bid purity to come with the moon,
but the Devil's Mark remains branded
deep within my brow.
i'm as depraved as the next.
like your mother who was often prone
to fondling beneath the water
while you bathed.

i was only five when
innocence was stolen,
long before i could comprehend oral
sex, or the warmth of the mouth
that enslaved my womb.

yet even while aware of his offenses,
you'd bend at the waist to
kiss my forehead and urge me to sleep.

"Sleep," you'd say, while administering
the evening dose of chloroform,
"It will all be less obtrusive
in the morning."

10/15/2003

Author's Note: the wonderful, glorious, and new-found alaina schneider is the reason for this piece. i stole her line, in compliment. *grins.* she's amazing, refined, and hilarious. not to mention absolutely freaking brilliant/amazing/wonderful... words don't describe. READ HER STUFF. NOW. I SAID NOW. GO. oh, and uh, thanks for reading mine. *GRIN* it's not quite finished, this is the first draft, but! ah, i'll leave it. for now. Sub Author's Note: I lied! Meet revision #1! (2/22/05) And then again revision #2: 5/27/11

I need to do something with the Mrs. Abbot stanza. I hate it.

Posted on 10/15/2003
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