The Black Layer

The boy sits
a gargoyle
atop the black and white
checked stairs

The image of his mother
crossing the landing
flashes across his
retina, through the twisted
optic nerve

His snot gleam hands
let his father�s meticulously
polished bowling ball
slip

Bouncing, thud
every cracked foot tread
mirrored by a brisk flash
of his father�s belt
on his smudged brain
canvas

In the asylum, they paint
the walls a light blue
to try to soothe the patients.

The chemical drip
floods his brain
with waves of peppery
chemical sedatives.