Black Rooms for Little Girls

When you sat me on your lap

I never asked you for the world

I simply pointed to the darkness and

Asked for a closed door

A Black Room hidden away

Some colored paper maybe

And a blanket softer than cotton

 

But then I cried myself sick

One silly afternoon

And you were scared so

You built me stairs to climb

And handed me paint brushes and showed me

The empty walls behind the pink curtains

You forgot how old I was

 

I was angry for hours

And I yelled into my hands

For you to leave me

But then you took away the blanket

And gave me an empty picture frame

With the words

“I love you”

Etched in Gold on the side

 

And I knew you weren’t serious

When she smiled at you and gave away her

Sensitive heart

So I took out the thin glass

And pierced the sharp edge

Deep into my burning skin

Just like her

But smart enough to leave some room for later

 

For the Cold years

I can’t remember how many

You asked me if I was happy

While you were drawing

Dreamy landscapes on the walls

In white chalk

And when you looked up

You saw her face

A mask I made out of colored paper

 

You chased me around my Black Room

I was moving so fast

And laughing so loud I couldn’t hear

Your heavy footsteps

But I stopped when I heard the match

And the roaring flames

Your face looking like nothing

And all the colored paper burnt

While I stood so close

Feeling the heat caress my cheek

Almost falling into the fire

 

And the next day I awoke

Lying next to a picture of her

And I found you

Weeping into the blanket

That was now ripped and crimson

I called your name

But you didn’t hear me

So I asked you to give me the world

 

And you said you couldn’t give me

Something so small

 

And so I ripped the pink curtains

To wrap them around my scars

And I painted my face with

What you once called

Forgotten Love

And I pulled out the staircase

To climb it just like you said

When you built it

Drunk and thoughtless

 

But what I found out there

Was too big and overwhelming

And faces began to notice the red

Leaking through the pink fabric

 

And I remember taking your hand

Because the picture frame meant

Something important

Because Gold is the color

Of the truth-tellers

And because there's always

A price to pay

 

When behind the real wounds

The invisible wounds

Gold is nothing but a lie

Covered with sparkle

And cheerful portraits

And little girls crying

In the afternoons

With their lovely little bodies

And their naive little hearts

And their weak denying minds

Are full of nothing to remember

Nothing to worry about

In Black Rooms

Where the only music playing over and over again

Is the sound of false men:

Just relax, this won't hurt

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Distant horizons]

So heart wrenchingly painful words, wonderfully expressed. I especikally liked the phrase...
Gold is nothing but a lie

Covered with sparkle

And cheerful portraits

...That itself says a lot within itself.