The Dawning

The lamp fell
Darkness collapsed down
Light spilled out
Like liquid gold
Across the Shag-pile carpet

I turned my head
Looking over my hunched back
which had been my shield
As I played Solitaire
On the floor alone

Little John was sitting
On the edge of the bed
Lolling off to his left
In just his socks
Trying to roll a cigarette

Queer shadows altered his face
And disclosed the truth
I saw things in him
Which I'd never seen before
Vile things
Evil things
The real reason as to why
He'd asked my nine year old sister
What colour knickers
She was wearing
A shapeshifter!

I think he was looking at me
Tho it was hard to know for sure
As shadows were thrown upwards
So his eyes could have been closed
Or even large black holes

I must have looked pretty dark myself
An eight year old kid
Hunched over down on the floor
Cards laid out
Head turned
Eyes scrunched up
Staring over a naked drunk
Regarding his shriveled cock
Almost retracted into his ballbag
A comma of cum
Hanging a drip off the foreskin
Making a semi-colon
A pause in time

When Little John leaned forward
Stretching for the lamp
The liquid light on the floor
Mother was revealed
Out cold to the wall
Her hair a week of tangle
Her knickers ripped off
Her pale arse exposed
Angular buttocks scooped out by anorexia
Leading onto orphans thighs
A perfect figure
For jutting out a mass grave

And then the room was half in light again
Mother disappeared
Little John climbed into bed
I turned back around
Hunched over low
Hiding in my own shadow
I laid a black card down on a red
But it was useless
There had been a pause
And I had turned around
Seen the world behind
A comma of cum
A semi-colon
And from then on
I never saw life
Nor man or woman
in quite the same light again

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