Two trees converge in a forest, cold. One’s full of daggers and the other fruiting stares, bold.
I'm aware. My coat of arms I no longer bear nor my family crest of shame. I'm not here to blame. It's just a stupid game. And, honestly, it's all a bit insane.
How did it get to this? Goodnight hugs and kisses are no longer things of blisses.
Your babies become your lovers? Your perpetrator is your mother? And your pharmacist is your father?
Druggin' instead of huggin'.
They’re in the basement recording porn instead of watching movies with popcorn.
Roller rink and disco balls Secret bedroom with thick walls
Snoopy snowcones, lemonade stands sloppy kisses and filthy hands.
Secret slips of hands inside thighs. A childhood paradise they would forever eroticize.
SHUT THE FUCK UP, you little brat! a push, a hug, a pinch, a head pat. spit, blood, tears, immortal combat.
Babies rocked and sung lullabies, Muffled screams and smothered cries. Let us never forget all the lies. All that lies… Lights, cameras, action!
Rock a bye, baby, on the treetop. You'll kill me, maybe. Your control wouldn't stop. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. The horrors, they necrose. My amygdala, in constant shock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. My babies you couldn't take. So I left it all. And down will come baby, cradle and all. My body told me. Now your cardboard castle will crumble and fall.
Rock a bye baby, gently you swing, Off with your hands, lady! And his head, I'll bring. Over the cradle, Mother will sing, A Rhesus monkey's ladle, no comfort could she bring. Sweet is the lullaby over your nest Upon your blood and bones I'll ingest. That tenderly sings my baby to rest. No love could live inside that chest.
From the high rooftops, down to the sea Nothing but drops and chops upon me. No one's as dear as baby to me An extension of yins is all I'd be. Wee little hands, eyes shiny and bright Diving boards and blue whale’s eyes became the big surprise in the night. Now sound asleep until morning light 3 am and I'm wide awake with fright.
Rock a bye baby, on the tree top, I've made peace with it all; I'm feeling tiptop. When the wind blows the cradle will rock. I'm King of my world and there's no need to gawk. When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, I'm cool as a pool in the middle of fall. And down will come baby, cradle and all. I'm as light as Grandpa's bowling ball. Now, tell me, what did you recall?
