Two Poems

The Reason I Hate The Shining

Another night of fear
Just like the last, just like the next

Another gulp slides down her hatch
Impossible to count how many there have been

Another bottle hits the wall

I hop, skip, and jump through the brown glass
Escaping her fumbled attempt at capture
A little soldier in a minefield,
Running from the enemy

My feet, somehow, are uncut
I run, faster than when I'm on the playground
I slam the bathroom door
Booms, bangs, and bad words demand entrance

I hide, curled up in the corner of the bathtub
It feels weird here being dry, un-wet
Like an empty throat waiting to be fed

I wait
It has been calm for a while I think
I slip out of the tub, away from my refuge
And tread across the the dirty tile towards the door
As my arm extends for the knob, it happens
The thick, shiny blade pushes into the door, almost all the way through

I, aged eight, return to my cold tub and tease it with tears while my
Mother tries to chop the door down with an axe

Are you still out there?

I remember every time
you hit me

I remember the night
you were too drunk
to make tea, so you asked me
and I said no, so you yanked me
out of bed, rolled up in blanket
and beat the shit out of me, hit
me as hard as you could even when
I screamed
stop

I remember the night
you had me up against the wall
and I realized I was bigger than you
at age eight, you five foot cunt,
so I pushed you away and hit you right
in the mouth and you fell flat
on your face

I remember ten minutes later
you still hadn't moved
I thought you were dead
so I hit your chest and kissed
you as hard I could 'til you finally
moved again

If you're still out there, mom
if you see this

that sucks

because every single night
I hope you are dead.


*These two poems can also be read at Downer Magazine.