Poems from the Closet

Sometimes it doesn’t matter
Why should I stay
My world has already shattered
And I’m gone away…

Look what you’ve done
I cannot hold you back
You steal my very breath
And turn my world black.

Deep within you reach
Touching with your slimy hand
All my inner being
Infected by your brand.

I am forever yours
Lost in your madness
Consumed in your sadness
You have drawn me into
Your filthy breath
And shut the doors.

I cannot hate you enough
That you will go away
Or quit
Or give me back my breath;
I cannot cry or scream
You live in my mouth
Like spit
From the demons of death.

You fill my mouth
And every cavern in my soul;
I cannot breathe
You have taken my control
You told me lies
And made me believe them
In order to live
And all for what?

Everything you touched
Spoiled and rotted and festered
Such an unbelievable stench
And I was your wench -
A child with no identity
And knew itself not.

I am all covered in filth
I am filled with it
I am it

So you have said
So I believe
The stench is overwhelming
And all the world agrees

How could they not?
I am yours
Because I cannot fight anymore
I just let you shatter me
Over and over again

And anyone else who wants to
What else can such a piece of trash do?
There’s nothing else at all…

Lost in the slime
Black, ichorous slime
Unable to breathe
All that comes into me
Is slime

And it becomes who I am.
I have lost myself
But no matter
The hands hurt less
Not knowing
Who it is
They are hurting
The pain is beyond
My feeling
It is beyond
My feeling

And I shall live
In a little cave
At the back of the closet
In the house of pain.

Suck out my breath
Suck out my water
Suck out my blood
Nothing will be left
Except the shell of a lost child.

Who remembers the hand?
Who remembers your name?
Who remembers the terror
And the unspeakable pain?

None but the child
In the closet’s lonely cave;
None but the child
That it’s too late to save.

Gone from all thoughts,
All touch, all breath
How can you save one
Who already knows death?

My hands disintegrate,
Dissolve into the black
That crawls ever nearer my heart,
And I cannot hope
To recover myself
From something I’m already part.

It doesn’t matter, daddy,
What you’ve done
No one would believe me
And I cannot talk anyway

And you knew that
And what would I say
To possibly convey
The terror expressed
In a silent scream.

You have taken what you wanted
Tried to take your own childhood back
By killing mine and leaving me haunted
Like the dead who do not know the life they lack.

I can pretend to be alive
Who would really know
No one is looking closely
No one really wants to

No one sees beyond a child
That pretends to be alive
Quietly pretending to breathe
Pretending to sleep
Pretending to be a child.

The Healing Room