"Mommy, where's my teddy bear?"

Upstairs
             walk slowly
                                  skip 1, 2
                                                   fly

Under the covers, tight-
-wrapped and safe. They start
to cling to my breath and lungs.
My baby hands curl
over Teddy's eyes.

*Go to sleep, little bear.

Open your mouth,
The dust flies out,
I have no past,
The memories have worn,
Now nothing more than colours,
Years and days of colours,
Fading by the day

Spill from the seams,
It's not healthy,
To taste blood in water,
And bones behind skin,
Withered and lost for colour,
You're fading into sepia,
Into the hollow,
Of my unconscious mind,
My eyes see only,
The skeletons

I can feel your fingers,
Grazing my edges

Do you picture,
A home,
Enclosed in snow,
Juxtaposed with ocean sand,
And the blaring light,
Of a fresh white sky,
Gumboots and maples,
Cemented in the dampness,
Of mud and dew,
Ice and oak walls,
Dripping with the gold,
Of morning

The rotten linen weave,
Of my mind,
Losing fabrication,
Your voice is slipping,
And our eyes,
Are drawn out on our tongues,
Into vessels,
Cold heat and passion,
Dead in the instant,
Of it's creation

Wash the blood from your teeth;
you're all in pieces,
taking us in pieces,
to become your own.

Pull the dirt from your nails;
you are not whole.
We've always been empty
behind the illusion.

Cut the colour from your eyes,
stop beating.
I wish I could pull the stopper
and call you a monster.