Becoming Conscious After Eating A Yellow Moon

Becoming Conscious After Eating A Yellow Moon

A Poem by redzone
"

...every day, every hour, somewhere...

"
BECOMING CONSCIOUS AFTER EATING A YELLOW MOON
yesterday I ate a yellow moon
as it rode low, and slowly
encountered a twilight sky.
it tasted like vanilla crunch.
but you know, eating the moon
gives you a headache,
like the kind you get if your face
was slammed against the wall,
then kicked in the gut when you were down.
the kind of headache I’ve had since I was three;
at least that is what I was told.
I can’t remember much about those early days.
besides the headaches, I have been deaf since ten
and I carry a limp as well
as a glass eye
from having philosophical
discussions with the cellar steps
as I bounce down.
I now find it hard to open the cellar door
cause I swear I hear crying
coming from down there.
I know it must be me
sprawled on the blood soaked floor
and I think I might go crazy
if I saw myself.
~~~
you know what’s really crazy though?
for the longest time I loved him;
 would follow him
do everything I could to please him.
bring him his pipe
or the newspaper
get him coffee.
except on those days 
where his eyes were red 
and he stank of piss. Then
I would plead:
“oh daddy. don’t be mad at me.
please don’t hit me. no,
no, not that,
 that hurts so much.
I’ll be good. I promise.”
~~~
even now, I think I love him.
I never meant to push him back,
to knock him down the stairs
I guess if I had called the ambulance right away
 everything would have been okay.
but the judge said that it was wrong
to stab him so many times;
to cut off his penis
 and stick it in his mouth.
somehow though, I never understood why.
it’s not like he begged
for mercy
and he never once cried!
~~~
I am in my room now,
back from another conversation
with electricity,
sitting on my bed
at St. Mary’s starring blankly
at this huge, yellow moon.
as I savor its vanilla crunch,
I am trying to understand why
I feel like I am to blame?
trying to remember if I ever smile;
work up enough courage to hate him.
~~redzone 10/29/02

© 2014 redzone


Author's Note

redzone
thanks for reading..

captcha: branial.. nothing branial about child abuse. maniaical maybe..

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

103 Views
Added on February 13, 2014
Last Updated on February 13, 2014

Author

redzone
redzone

somewhere, usa



Writing