Night, sky like a raven, no moon, no stars, no sky. I looked back. I always look back before I step inside the house. Savor that last glimpse of beauty, no matter how haunting. The stars never shine. The moon is never new. The sky is never there. A sun never shines, instead, a burning slave driver with whip in hand lashes me on. Awake! it cries. So awake and I rise.
But I am darkness, never looking back again after once glancing into the void to clear my mind. Do adults do that too? I must practice patience and might. But I am a patient, or I will be soon. Every threshold is simply another move, a move towards a cave where a one eyed cyclops stands in my way. In my way to the warm bed that I crave. I craved it since the task master first woke me, now I crave it no more. I know what comes to me. The cyclops isn't evil, just misunderstood. He only has one eye, because wily Odyssean Bud Light stole the other, so he can't see me. When he asks my name, I only say, "Nobody."
Stand in the corner as long as you can, there is shelter there. I don't feel scared now, because I know, I know, I know, it ends. Sometimes it misses, sometimes it's the wall, instead of my face, but sometimes the monster catches a sheep and I don't cry. Never reprimand me, because I will cry, but show me why, and I will be fine. So I count, one, two, three, four, five. Give me my bed now and go to your Wheel of Fortune game with your Odysseus brew and leave me to my piece of tender, healing meat, and a dream that tells me I didn't get hurt.
No comments:
Post a Comment