sleep of innocence

she slept

her innocent sleep

awakened in the dark

by fear

disguised as love

it came in dressed like daddy

and stifled cries of pain

with hands

that smelled like they could fix her

if she broke

and she learned

to sleep silently

in the arms of pain

if she wanted to be held by love

but there is no peaceful slumber

in her soul

merely the vigilant unrest

of one who knows

that just when she rolls over

with contentment’s sigh

reality’s nightmare will awaken

with its hot breath

to suffocate her dreams

yet she no longer fears

she simply knows

the numbing truth

that there is nothing

in this dark world of love

which can crawl into her bed

and make her scream

for pain can’t sneak up on her


she sees it lying there

underneath the covers


and embraced

by love


my love,
yesterday my voice was silenced
by those who were attracted by my song
whose adorations accompanied me
down streets of betrayal
into the welcoming gates of pain

they sang how much they loved me
and lavished me with praise
but it was merely ruse
to get me deep into the city to destroy me

and those who would protect this lamb
turned heads away in shame
too fearful to defend
within authority’s thick walls

all power relinquished
into the hands of one, sanctioned
by oppressive throngs of culture
which taunted my inferiority

innocence roped and slaughtered
i now bear the scars upon my wrists
of one who was once dressed and whipped,
crucified in love’s name

but oh my Lord,
how my tomb echoes
with the emptiness of death
and there will be no resurrection
no Love reborn within this painful womb

for i have learned that love is merely this
waiting for the whips
waiting for the broken bleeding
waiting for the slaughter to arrive

teaching little girls

we take our little girls
and we teach them
to be nice
to be friendly
and to please

we let them run
and jump
and tumble in the grass

but not too fast
and not too far
and never high enough
to escape


for then
we take our little girls
and tell them
don’t be too nice
don’t be too friendly
don’t be too pleasing

and never laugh too joyously
as you tumble in the grass

we say
you’ll be too nice
and attract evil
with your laughter
and then you’ll pay the price
for joy

and it will be your fault

we squash their freedom
we squash their spirits
we squash expression
and hope
and love
and joy

squeezed until they whimper
and then we stomp upon them

their soul
beaten from them
bled from them
with the onset
of monthly cycles

blessed cycles
which should give life
instead are cursed

and used to kill


i was once

a delicate bird of song

dainty creature

of the morning light

playing in the tops of trees

but my colors

were too bright

my spirited song too lively

for i had not learned

the art

of camouflage

young instincts unrefined

i didn’t know

that cats could climb

with claws that ripped

right through my tender throat

and tore my voice

from me

pieces of me

would you care to know

what you did to me

when you devoured this little girl

and used her innocence

to satiate your hunger

you ripped me into pieces

until, separate from all feeling

i became numb

to the consumption

of my parts

you cut my voice from me

so that i can never sing

or scream for help

you cut my heart from me

so that i can never love

or express anger

you cut my mind from me

so i can’t trust my reason

or my rhyme

you cut my hands from me

so that i can never touch

or push away

you cut my feet from me

so that i can never dance

or run away

you cut my ears from me

so i can’t hear tender words

or words of danger

you cut my nose from me

so that i can’t smell the flowers

or the fumes

you cut my eyes from me

so i can’t see the light

in this darkness

you cut my womb from me

so that i can’t feel pleasure

without pain

and i give birth

to death

like humpty dumpty

cracked open and exposed

and broken into

oh so many pieces

that even these King’s men

can’t put me back

together again

little girl hush

little girl

little girl


you make too much

joyful noise

the evil ones will hear

and you will get what you deserve

if you attract attention

they will stifle your cries of joy

till they become cries of pain

little girl

little girl


you make too much

anguished noise

the holy one will hear

and they will get what they deserve

if you attract attention

they will stifle your cries of pain

till they become silent tears

little girl

little girl


cutting in


why do you let him cut in

when you dance with me

to take me for a spin

of frenetic spirals

on the floor

i look o’er my shoulder

for your protective gaze

but i can’t seem to find you

in the room

and i can’t escape his grasp

as he pulls me tightly

into his obscene gyrations


come tap me on the shoulder

once again

for my feet are weary of this dance

of death

precious daughter

precious daughter

beautiful creature of the wild

run with power

run with grace

to the edge

of the tallest cliff

which your keen eyes

can spy on the horizon

and roar

freedom’s song

into the canyon.

Let no predator


into the territory

of your Self

and be forever strong.

Trust your instincts

to carry you

even when legs are weary

for you are a woman-child

my wild child

of wisdom


and beauty.

Howl to the moon.


wailing women

where are the wailing women

who scream their outrage

to the gods

who moan so soft and low

deep into the night


where are the wailing women

whose voices

soothe my pain

whose lamentation wraps

me in mourning arms


where are the wailing women

whose voices

softly stroke my skin

with fingertips of anguish

to release my own

wailing to the gods


where are the wailing women

whose voices

bathe me in their comfort

to wash this blood

of violence and death

which weeps from my wailing womb


rope of abuse

i thought i had broken free

yet the memory of you


my wrists

as you drag me back

through the dirt

to spread my legs

and expose my loins

to the butcher’s knife


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