DAWN
I
am a small girl alone. I have a secret.
DAY
Streaks of sunlight on my eyes, I
waken. My world is different in the day. There is grim rest. Daylight gives me
hours to live and wander. Not sure what is. Though I eat, I taste no food.
Though I talk, I don’t hear me. I move, but I don’t know where I go. My
somewhere is nowhere. I think, but it doesn’t matter. I’m nothing, no-one. No
smile, no laugh. Worn and weary, I must be old. Most of the time, I don’t feel,
don’t care….til dark falls.
In the space of day, I do this, I do
that, I don’t remember what. Unnoticed, ignored, I go hide in my sister’s room.
Browsing through records, I take off and fly. Putting the headphones on, I turn
the music up. Loud and louder, the blare of songs belt and pound out beats that
throb my lips and drum on my soles. Tremors so loud that the room, the house,
and you disappear. The music heavy beats
hammer against bone and cheek as music swells and crashes, soaring me high
through the rush of air. The room around me swirls and falls away.
Unbarred, I
hurtle into bliss of lost and heaven, I swim towards the bright and float in
the sway and dance of breeze. Bobbing and drifting on seas and gushing rivers,
waves froth and break over me. Gliding down vales and valleys, I run and run through
sweet cool mist. Flying under the glow and gleam of crescent moons, I skim and
tumble through starry skies of balm. Warm waterfalls thunder, spraying solace
and singing hum. Rolling on the greenest
of grass, I trace the whitest of clouds scudding across the boldest of dazzle
blue. In this haven of pearly white peace, there’s no limit of space, no
hardening, no time, no you. This high up, the air smells clean and spins out never
ending dreams.
DUSK
Music stops. Dream ends. Looking out, I
look around. Day, sun and good seeps out of the thinning creases of horizon.
Dulling light turns a gauzy hue, mulling over dusky winds. Dread unfolds and crawls
up my legs and squats on my chest - can’t wrench it off,
can’t breathe. Unease pulses and swells, drenching my palms, can’t smear it off.
A harsh gnawing burrows in the hollow of my belly, draining me. Dusk, do hold on,
leave me light and sit with me. She sneers, her light thins and fades. Dark surely
nears, ghastly and gleeful. The clock ticks on.
TWILIGHT
Brood and hate of muddy darkness nears,
it smirks at my beseeching and gloats at the smell of my fear. It yawns and
stretches lazily as it sucks dry the clay-grey of fast dimming light. Twilight rich
and dense, taunts and hovers. I ask twilight to stay. It twitches, circles and
teases. But haughty, she slinks away. Loom of lonely whispers in weaving a slicing
cold in me.The clock ticks on.
NIGHT
Dinner is done. Table is clear. Dishes
are washed. Talk is over. TV is blank. Beyond the ghostly room, evening bares
and sinks her fangs in deep ink black of mischief night. Faltering, I walk to
bed. Sleek darkness coils like a snake and winds around me, preening and
brimming with evil bode. I know her promise, she hurts. Goading, she nibbles at
me nightly, sliver by sliver till drunk and full. The clock stops.
Last night you promised you were going
to stop. You promised the night before and all those other nights.
Quiet hollers at me, daring me to
shout for help. But I am bound and veiled
in secret. Trapped, lonely for someone to save me. Like all nights, I wait. No
one stops it. There’s no hide, no safe, no home. Dreading you hurts. That dread
and baiting quiet picks away at my flesh.
Close to the doorway of my eerie cage, I lay rigid, watching for
shifting shadows and the rustle of you entering, hunting and hawking. Like all
taut and mean nights, I wish I could stop breathing. Shadows lift. You come. It
begins. The dying of me.
The secret. I am bad and black. Soiled
and decaying. This secret has a fervid knowing. That knowing is part of the air
that I breathe and the sun that I look at. The knowing stirs me in the morning,
it walks in the rhythm of my steps, it stares back at me in the mirror and it
soaks my sleep. It melts in the water that laves me; it skulks behind my eyes
and roams my placid days and galling nights. I taste it all the time. My
knowing is if I break the silence, it will kill us all: Mommy, Daddy, sisters
and brothers. Somewhere deep in me, forever sifting and being, I simply know
that if I am silent, my family lives. If I cry out, they all die. They are mine
to guard, my family. They are all that I have.
Holding my breath, I curl and steel me
from you. From the edge of the bed, you slither up to me, unquenched and
craving. Rummaging for me, your hungry, stealthy creep is urgent. Heaving, you
claw at me. Trying not to make noise, you choke back grunting gasps. Oily,
moist breaths fan and sicken me.
Brother, your want swallows and pummels me but I hold on. I guard our
family with stout heart as you part mourning me. I am too small to take you in.
Too small to break your grasp. Too small for your rank fever, your wreck, but
as always, I lay for you and hold fast the secret. Straining, you grind me
deeper into the abyss, nailing and stabbing me with the thick wet of unholy you.
Splaying my legs, vicious, keen shards of you wound me. With dank skin, hot and
coarse, your brutal rubbing sears and gags me. It goes on and on. I cling to
visions of petal-soft white, of summer day, the shimmer of cold dew and flying
higher up a bountiful, glinting sky. But, shooting, ripping icy pain blots out
my sky. You pour into me and I am greased with your hateful, dirty spew. In
silence, I thrash inside, lost, helpless and begging for hazy drift and dusty blur.
Shame bursts in me, haunting and battering. Loathing every bit and piece of me,
I want to spit and stomp on rotten me, shred and blacken me, crush the light out
of me. I hate me and want to sob and scoop out your muck from the depths of twisted
me. With bruised, raked thighs and scorched insides, I yearn to scream, to hurl
out massive, lurking and roaring rage. But I stifle me, my family must live.
Hush. They must not waken. Steadfast, I guard the secret. With fouled and
mangled body and fading sinew, I guard them. If I could only leave. Or if I could only die. Squeezing my eyes close,
I dream of slicing me…rich, beautiful rivulets of garnet blood, falling from
me, drowning and cresting over our awful, grave deed. Death calls, I want to go.
My dying would kill your seething and simmering. End the long moaning and crazed,
evil thrusting and licking.
Your familiar shudder finally subsides
and your pants slow. You unclench. Let go. You finish. Lying limp, pried and cleaved
open, I fight to live. In the moonlight gloom, our eyes lock. I see the dawn of
your horror. You tentatively reach for weak, wretched me, heat and hankering
gone. Tenderly, you wipe some of you off of me. Drawing me close, you stroke me
shakily. In the awkward cradle of your legs and arms, you rock what is left of
me. You comfort me? Your hands tremble sorrowfully for you see the small of me,
gashed and scarred. Grief swims and blisters in your eyes. Forlorn spreads in
you like disease with curse clanging and brawling in you. Regret drips and
bleeds from your face and core. Cowering and drooped, you are sad and sorry.
Sickened, you hate you too. Too late. I am smashed and vile. Gored, I fester in
your arms, crumpled, little, stained and sordid. I see you churn, ache and weep
at what you did… but tomorrow, you will steal and scrape into me again.
Dawn. I am a small girl alone. I have
a secret.
Day
Dusk
Twilight
Night…
Dawn. I am a small girl alone. I have
a secret.
Day
Dusk
Twilight
Night…
No End
