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Bleach
Bleach is a fragile creature. He keeps to himself,
hiding his glittering eyelashes from the world.
The harsh light from the sun damages his cells,
daring him to step out from his self-made compound.
Into the ice cold night he vanishes,
the unfeeling brick a comfort, the moon an ally.
Childhood is but a twisted blur,
locked doors and harsh words, creeping of corners and silence.
Occasionally, he bandages himself up, slides on sunglasses,
and watches the world from his murky retreat on the porch.
The ruffled, owlish pages of his library comfort him,
Zeus and Peter Rabbit sharing his pain and aches.
A bright man used to come to see him,
open up his bag of tricks and give Bleach pills to play with.
These days, the house lies empty,
dust stirred no longer by the cat that came around.
These days, Bleach is just waiting.
Last edited by Damien. : 08-03-2008 at 03:30 PM.
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