Running silent, running dark.
Running silent from the dark. And the light.
Full moon shadows - I must flee them, for only in utter darkness can I deny the blood.
Ground.
Go to ground.
Must go to ground.
And lick my wounds.
This poem is my visceral response as a male survivor of childhood sexual assault, to continued abuse from GOP leaders who would blame the Congressional Pages - and anyone other than themselves - for the acts of evil they commit against children in their lust for power.
© 2006, by The Werewolf Prophet. All rights reserved.
Posted in memory of my friend Larry Jackson, a male survivor who finally succumbed to the darkness others thrust into his soul.
Dearest Huggz, you finally got real faerie wings.
Cross-posted at Street Prophets.
"When reality bites, bite back!" ~ The Werewolf Prophet, resident Looped-Garou of Prophecy Street.