talking and dreaming in my sleep again
of peter pan and the lost boys,
my childhood sugarcoated at its edges --
the confetti pink dreams as a girl
lovely as almonds, sweet as marzipan --
scattering my thoughts all across
the floor like toys with Nana watching
over us and catching fairies
in the garden -- their glow only a trick
of the light and their flight lost in the roses.
and i close my eyes
and catch my dreams in claws
that sting me and my monsters;
time does not heal all
and you fall like litter all over me
when Jude is singing.
and i catch my breath
waiting for the next tragedy; thinking
it all started when Scrumpy died
with her tongue lolling, and that cloud
swelling in her stomach: the ache in her eyes when it blowed up her belly in pain.
and i cannot resurrect her
and there i see my mum's eyes dull
with chemical pain and i
couldn't wash it away --
i feel stained, the mattress
of a bed wetter and bad dreamer --
and the blame and what i did wrong
and the shame when Alice couldn't hold her tears.
- Mermaid Motel
- JoinedSeptember 18, 2011