deepundergroundpoetry.com

Moonchild

All you ever fed me was cruelty and pain,
Starving, I consumed every morsel,
every drop I drank.
Instructed to stay quiet,
Mind my manners and never speak.
Never decline what�s been requested,
And never appear displeased.
Always take what I am gifted
With a smile upon my face.
And the only expressions permitted to be given
Are those of gratitude and thanks.

Every day, with words and fists like blades,
You cut away my meat.
�That frown is gonna cost ya honey,
You have three seconds to show those teeth
Do you think gloomy gals make any money,
or would I make more, selling you piece by piece�
Afraid of repercussions,
My smile I regain.
You dress my body in satin and lace,
You adorn my skin with jewels
Feed my flesh to your insatiable pack.
I am to remain silent and grateful
while devoured by wolves.

With the last hours of night,
I gather the pieces that remain,
whisper softly the release
of everything
too painful to contain
To the master seamstress,
The Patcher of wounds,
The Receiver of empty wicks
from flames far too new,
The Guardian Mother,
The Moon.

Upon bare earth,
I rest my eroded frame.
Within the dirt,
I find my warmth.
Beneath many layers of shame,
I trace into the hearth
The letters �J. A. N. E.
For it is what they cannot take from me,
My name.

Let them carve and cut away at me,
Whittle my bones into picks,
Tear into the twelve threads
stitched into my canvas.
Sell me to the highest bid,
Own my tattered flesh.
But they cannot possess
The essence of my soul,
For it is not held within my skin.

This shell that carries me
feels so withered and weak,
Dissolving into the ground
Upon which I lay my head to sleep.
My most treasured moments
Are those held within my dreams.
�Thank you, Mother Moon,
For the chance to see
What beautiful colors love
chooses to paint the sea.�

My flame it stutters,
Its words they cease.
My heart it wonders
�Who is that asleep
In the mud at my feet?
Is that me?
It is me.�
A tear slips to my cheek
When I see the scars
from the wolves' teeth.
�Was I really that small?
Just a child, barely four feet tall.
I was tiny but strong.�

So clear now is the view I see.
Cradled within the earth,
I lay peacefully dying.
For the pain that child went through,
I cannot forsake my soul for crying.
My heart aches
At the view I intake.
My body riddled with abuse,
My skin every shade of black and blue.
�Thank you, Mother,
For bringing me home to you,
washing away my shame.
I am your eternally grateful daughter,
JANE�.
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