02-02-2011, 08:19 PM
There’s a game of hide-and-seek going on
It’s been fifteen years, and wouldn’t you guess it
They still haven’t found the child.
He is curled up under a mattress
In the empty home of a stranger
Who no longer lives there.
But every night, the stranger visits
Hovering above the bed like a spectre
Telling him not to come out, that it isn’t safe-
That if he emerges, they’ll drag him somewhere darker
That if he wants to be found, he deserves what comes next.
The man is old, with a dark, featureless face
And a body shaped entirely of silver smoke
Sometimes, he asks the child if he remembers.
But the child just lays there-
Hands-over-ears, eyes like fists
Clenching liquid, jumbled prayers
Tumbling from his purple lips.
Satisfied,
The stranger drifts out an open window.
Light crawls in
Like scorpions
______________________________________
EDIT
There’s a game of hide-and-seek going on.
It’s been fifteen years, and wouldn’t you guess it-
They still haven’t found the child.
He is curled under a mattress
In the empty home of a stranger
Who no longer lives there.
Every night, the stranger visits him
Hovering above the bare bed like a spectre
Telling him not to come out, that it’s not safe yet.
That if he emerges, they’ll drag him into the bushes
And beat him. That there’s nothing secure about discovery
That if he wants to be found, he deserves what comes next.
The stranger is old, with a dark, featureless face
And a body formed entirely of silver smoke.
Sometimes, he asks the child if he remembers.
But the child just lays there-
Like a stem with its petals plucked
Before they could even bloom.
It’s been fifteen years, and wouldn’t you guess it
They still haven’t found the child.
He is curled up under a mattress
In the empty home of a stranger
Who no longer lives there.
But every night, the stranger visits
Hovering above the bed like a spectre
Telling him not to come out, that it isn’t safe-
That if he emerges, they’ll drag him somewhere darker
That if he wants to be found, he deserves what comes next.
The man is old, with a dark, featureless face
And a body shaped entirely of silver smoke
Sometimes, he asks the child if he remembers.
But the child just lays there-
Hands-over-ears, eyes like fists
Clenching liquid, jumbled prayers
Tumbling from his purple lips.
Satisfied,
The stranger drifts out an open window.
Light crawls in
Like scorpions
______________________________________
EDIT
There’s a game of hide-and-seek going on.
It’s been fifteen years, and wouldn’t you guess it-
They still haven’t found the child.
He is curled under a mattress
In the empty home of a stranger
Who no longer lives there.
Every night, the stranger visits him
Hovering above the bare bed like a spectre
Telling him not to come out, that it’s not safe yet.
That if he emerges, they’ll drag him into the bushes
And beat him. That there’s nothing secure about discovery
That if he wants to be found, he deserves what comes next.
The stranger is old, with a dark, featureless face
And a body formed entirely of silver smoke.
Sometimes, he asks the child if he remembers.
But the child just lays there-
Like a stem with its petals plucked
Before they could even bloom.

