Monsters of My Id
Scarred and scared, a child pleads with "God" for a miracle.
No longer the abuse nor the fear of discovery shivers her.
A feral beast in skirts taunts, with plagues of self doubt.
When perchance one may cast an unapproving glance,
The "Demon Queen" leaps, tearing her hair, amid howls of glee.
"Who do you kid? Your hands, those feet, that face?
You might do best to grow a beard."
Though assuredly she is easy to behold
And sounds as the birds, when she sings.
"Politely to you they do speak, at your back, they laugh.
All think you a fool!"
More insidious is another, which she has never seen.
The malefactor lurks out of periphery.
With breath foul, it leans and whispers,
"What if..."
Oh Lord, it's voice is enough to steal the breath!
"What if, on this path, past the point from which non return,
The heart being deceitful above all,
All that is lost and the ridicule suffered,
You discover your mistake.
Fear not, though all will forsake you,
I shall remain to remind,
only yourself is to blame."
Of the monsters in the Id, this one is despised mostly.
Hers is the visage, of the essence of youth.
Tresses of flame hue, countenance fair and freckled.
At first encounter, words escaped me, expect to ask,
"Please child, you must tell me your name."
Her answer pierced my spirit to it's very quick,
"I am the vision of that which might have been
But now, for certain, shall never be,
My name is Heather Rose."
© 2010 Heather Rose