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Description
Dreaming of Foundlings and Daylight Dancing Darlings
By: Charles Phillips

Hate that I’m attracted to you
I find it vulgar
Almost to a point of sickness
Not a sickness directed toward you
Rather toward me
I’m not sure where it comes from
Are you a ghost?
Just another monster that lives behind my eyelids ready to attack at a moment notice?
Especially those moments when I realize that I am just a tin clown toy
At least that’s how you make me feel
I see you’re sadness
And want to eat it for you
So that
So that you never have to understand it for a single moment longer
Is black sadness that seems to leak out of your hands
Hands I keep telling you that you can’t cut them off
They are meant to hold a cuddle our daughter
Our beautiful Regin
But you can’t because the sadness won’t let you
You can’t be a good mommy with all the sadness in your hands
Sadness
And the blankets of all them you’ve lost
Or did you let them go?
It wasn’t their time to enter the show
Neither from stage right
Or left

You just look at me and scream
But no words follow
Only daggers come
Sharper than the barbs that keep cattle in check
Black wings like crows fly from you
And are you,
Are us,
The we,
We aren’t allowed to be
You hold your sadness too tightly
Not realizing all you have to is wash your hands
And the black sadness will be gone.
Then there is me the tin clown that beats his drum for a mere smile from you
Just a single mention that I was spotted in your day
Still I continue to be just a tin clown
A windup toy for you
I’m afraid to be a real boy
That involves see the world
And letting it be real
Letting it have a comfortable texture
Letting it have the right geometry

I will continue to be your tin clown toy if I need to be
I hope to god you’ll wash your hands
And let me be a real boy
Let me hold you close
Let me see you smile into the face of her
Of our Regin
That’s not what you named her
Not in a long shot
You know to me that’s her names
That the name only I get to call her
The name she goes by after the rain stopped falling
After she forces me to go visit her mother
And baby brother
After the complications
After the screaming
After the black finally returned to your hands
Then took everything
Everything but her

I need to be strong for her now
And lift her to the sky
If not for her to fly
But fall
And let me dust her off till I fall completely apart

“I love you kid,
You’re daddies girl.
You always were
And always will be.
Just promise me you’ll be as pretty as your mother when you grow up.
If you grow up
If you get to be born.”

I ask this to no one in hopes that I’ll dream of her
And her perfect hugs

I hate that I’m attracted to you
Because this is a never to be

12/27/2018

Description
Dreaming of Foundlings and Daylight Dancing Darlings
By: Charles Phillips

Hate that I’m attracted to you
I find it vulgar
Almost to a point of sickness
Not a sickness directed toward you
Rather toward me
I’m not sure where it comes from
Are you a ghost?
Just another monster that lives behind my eyelids ready to attack at a moment notice?
Especially those moments when I realize that I am just a tin clown toy
At least that’s how you make me feel
I see you’re sadness
And want to eat it for you
So that
So that you never have to understand it for a single moment longer
Is black sadness that seems to leak out of your hands
Hands I keep telling you that you can’t cut them off
They are meant to hold a cuddle our daughter
Our beautiful Regin
But you can’t because the sadness won’t let you
You can’t be a good mommy with all the sadness in your hands
Sadness
And the blankets of all them you’ve lost
Or did you let them go?
It wasn’t their time to enter the show
Neither from stage right
Or left

You just look at me and scream
But no words follow
Only daggers come
Sharper than the barbs that keep cattle in check
Black wings like crows fly from you
And are you,
Are us,
The we,
We aren’t allowed to be
You hold your sadness too tightly
Not realizing all you have to is wash your hands
And the black sadness will be gone.
Then there is me the tin clown that beats his drum for a mere smile from you
Just a single mention that I was spotted in your day
Still I continue to be just a tin clown
A windup toy for you
I’m afraid to be a real boy
That involves see the world
And letting it be real
Letting it have a comfortable texture
Letting it have the right geometry

I will continue to be your tin clown toy if I need to be
I hope to god you’ll wash your hands
And let me be a real boy
Let me hold you close
Let me see you smile into the face of her
Of our Regin
That’s not what you named her
Not in a long shot
You know to me that’s her names
That the name only I get to call her
The name she goes by after the rain stopped falling
After she forces me to go visit her mother
And baby brother
After the complications
After the screaming
After the black finally returned to your hands
Then took everything
Everything but her

I need to be strong for her now
And lift her to the sky
If not for her to fly
But fall
And let me dust her off till I fall completely apart

“I love you kid,
You’re daddies girl.
You always were
And always will be.
Just promise me you’ll be as pretty as your mother when you grow up.
If you grow up
If you get to be born.”

I ask this to no one in hopes that I’ll dream of her
And her perfect hugs

I hate that I’m attracted to you
Because this is a never to be

12/27/2018