I am the monster under the bed.
(Apparently under the big bed, the one that holds 'all of you'.)
I am off the edge of your map, and I am prowling. You make noise and flash lights as if I might be driven into the imaginary by your denial, you pretend I am not there, and by that pretending you cast my shadow large and misshapen, huge and slavering and consuming things you thought you knew.
I come in the night and seduce away what you thought was yours, what would live by the rules of civilised climes, the way you thought things should be. I am nothing but a shadow, not a creature of substance; what you know of me matters not against what I mean. Perhaps I am the shadow of a real evil, nothing but the hound of a cult trailing along in the footsteps of other unreality. Perhaps I am the demoness herself, spiked and sorcerous.
But - I tell you this - never forget that in the shadow that you made there is a child.
Because there is where you will meet the real beast.
Do not forget my daughter, treat her as an irrelevance, dismiss her. Do not attempt to use her as a leverage point to peel away one or another of her parents. Do not attempt to wail and claw at the horror of a child cradled in such darkness as mine, because I will want to introduce you to darkness then, I will want to and I will hold back because her innocence will not be stained with blood so unworthy.
I will hold back a while. I will wait you out, I may try to laugh because the fairy tales are so comically twisted and unreal. I will let you tell your stories if they help you sleep at night. I will swallow up my own pain at being driven away and warped into shadows, my reality ignored because you must have your stories and hold them up over what is real. I will bleed for you, you who live in the light and order of civilised lands and must have tidiness and hold the borders of your world strong, and believe me, I bleed every moment my humanity is less important to you than your fictions and your "It's just wrong, I can't tell you why." I will let you fucking flay me alive with your weapons of annihilation, without denying that that is what you are doing to me.
I will do this for you.
So long as you leave my child alone, cradled within the arms of her family.
I am the monster of mothers, and you who live in Heorot should leave us be.
23 September, 2009
Monster of Mothers
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"Dw3t-Hthr" (Duat-Hether) is a title of various female temple officials in ancient Egypt. It means "Worshipper of Hathor" or "Adorer of Hathor".
6 comments:
I read this post a week or so ago and didn't have a chance to comment, but it's left me wondering: Has someone threatened Little Foot or your family over your polyamory or d/s? Is that what inspired this, or some other event?
The direct inspiration for that was dealing with drama involving a set of out-laws, who are, yes, attempting to fracture my family because they don't want their child to be poly.
Or, if poly, to not talk about it, not spend time caring for our child, not ever make them have to acknowledge the family, etc.
This stresses me the fuck out.
Your little darling is waaay more cute than Grendel. But yes, eat them up....those revelers in the mediocrity of that Hall of Average Fear.
Are the out-laws part of your poly family, or outside of it?
That's hard stuff. When explaining to my mother about polyamory, pointing out that my child might not necessarily be biologically mine was really beyond her boundaries of comprehension. She just kept repeating, "I don't want to think about that, I don't want to think about that."
It's funny when people say poly-parenting isn't traditional, considering for most of human existence children have had more than two parents. It's integral to survival in hunter-gatherer and other close-knit community lifeways.
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