She floats in a brackish pond,
full of weeds of her past
that pull her down into breathless depression.
Daddy is an angry, jealous drunk.
Mummy is projecting terror;
she doesn’t know what he did with his guns.
She surfaces again, gasping;
pulling at biting strands,
only to be yanked down by other frightful memories.
Merciless school yard brutes;
teachers scared to help;
she struggles against their pull, flailing for the surface.
Soon enough, the weeds let go.
She thrashes to the light,
eyes wide, mouth closed tight and lungs burning.
She draws a deep breath,
wanting it to be enough to stay alive
as she knows she will be pulled under again.
Comments
Ewan | March 24, 2009 - 07:25
Do you like Nick Cave's Murder Ballads?
There is a grand tradition of this kind of ballad.
Very nice,this one.
Ewan
Dynamaso | March 24, 2009 - 08:15
Ewan, I am a big fan of Nick Cave and of all his recordings, Murder Ballads is certainly one of my favourites. It is the tradition I find most enjoyable too. Pleased you like this one.
lenchenelf | March 24, 2009 - 08:17
Very dark, stark and works so well. atb L
Dynamaso | March 24, 2009 - 08:22
Lenchenelf, thanks again for reading and commenting.
threeleafshamrock | March 27, 2009 - 18:02
Strong piece D. As L. said; it works so well. Really like this a lot, well done.
Chris
Dynamaso | March 28, 2009 - 03:25
Chris, thanks for your comments of support, mate. I thought this one was the stronger of the two pieces I put up on the same day but the other got much more interest (and a cherry) showing I can never pick 'em.