Running between the heads
the music plays macabre
like something written for witches
waiting quietly for their hour
and there is me also
running down that deserted street
caught between the heads
forever damned

Father, why did you show me the pretty pictures?
though never openly displayed
from dresser drawers ajar, they smiled
inviting me to play
a new kind of ‘make believe’

You tried to hide the evidence
logically explain
unforeseen, the cat in this child’s curiosity
my eyes had been stained
and Pandora’s box was opened
leaving me alone
to find the means and the courage
to seal it again

And now the videos
play endless - uncaring
showing things in perverted childhood
only dreamt of
but in this, no one do I have to hold in my arms
love - never to be a part of the programming

Yet the pleasure builds every time
an erection, wearing thorny crown
father, you never warned me
of the granite heavy guilt
that tears one’s soul out from inside
or could it be you too
are still running down that deserted street
caught between the heads
forever damned

© 1986

890 hits as of March 2024

10/31/2016

Author's Note: Happy Halloween everyone!

Posted on 10/31/2016
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti