A child that was

The hole sucks me in,with its deep darkness
The Fall was never healed.
Can I resist the call of the killers?
Will they kill me with kindness or with hatred?
I try to hide but no place feels safe anymore
I negate my writing and hide my pens.
Pain degrades  Writing deleted returns in imagination
 I can do little but I try
 Black gravity is the monster in my soul…
 Sway not the tree
 On whose strong branch the leopard drapes himself
 But let the moon speak in silver tongue
 as the leaves rustle
 I am invisible
 except as a home for ants
 Who steals my words.
 I am no more than a punctuation mark or a short title
 I am near the end of my sentence.
 I’ll be hanged by some inverted commas
 From the oak tree.. burning in the sun’s borrowed fires
 I can’t see your face now.
 Just shapes in grey fog
 Like the doctor without feeling for my child.
 A child,that was..
 that would have been…
 that has gone.
 I am uncertain
outside the circle,
outside the circle.
the circle
of
your arms