Softened by a whimsical palate and sealed
In vacancy there was a time when shadows
Slipped from that carnivorous aperture, from
The hostile shock of pomegranate within, so
Unlike the soft pastels without. You, father,
With your reptilian eyes have disguised yourself
Well within its darkness, within those closet-dwelling
Fiends in which I came so tenaciously to believe
=
Supernatural, psychological, nightmares
For which I swore you could not be blamed
But I have seen you raven-cloaked in the dead
Of night, cancerous silhouette, dislocating from
The walls to slink invertebrate into my bedroom
=
It was self-preservation that led me to fashion
Monsters on your behalf, better my own madness
Than a sickness capable of unmaking the world
=
I am reading this book that deals with childhood trauma so I find myself writing a bit more darkly
Submission for Magpie Tales
The Mag