8:00 pm
Lights out
Alarms on
Doors shut
Minds open
Orderlies on the watch
Sedatives at the ready
To protect us from
Ourselves
Or protect Them from Us?
No force fed sleep
Will protect me
From the hands
That grab me
In the night
I see my mother's painted
(You are a lady, act like it)
Nails as her hands wrap
Around my soul, crushing
It into fragments
And the blood she wrings
From my skin coats her hands
(I've never laid a finger on you)
As she balls them into fists
Unleashing her fury on me
(Dyke! Tranny! Freak!)
I've come to fear the
Sound of nails tapping on hard surfaces
I've memorized the color
She loves to use
A particular neutral pink
For when the occasion calls
As she cries into her hands, playing her role,
About the things I've put her through
The picture of the perfect caring mother
(I'm here for you)
I still have the scars.
YOU ARE READING
Remebrance
PoetryA book of poems written by me. Any poem I write will go in this book. Thanks for reading.
