Wednesday, September 28, 2016

ENL 267 Serial Poem

am i the only one?

I

The day it rained 
the clouds stood still
and the earth fell 
beneath my feet.
She shivered in the shadows
of her past and
tried to drown out
her demons in whiskey
and blood.
“I’m not worth it!”
she cried out.
I banged on her door
crying to let me in.
Scared and hopeless
she dared me to leave 
and dared me to love.
I resorted to every past
joke
past laugh
what memories we had 
and dreams we 
shared.

Why was I so desperate 
to love?

II

She said “I’m paranoid
when I’m stoned”. I told
her she thinks too much,
its ok not to. “But how, I’m 
fucking high!” 
I watched as she
tried to catch 
her breath and forget 
all the suffering she’s endured. 
I don't want her to change
and even if she did
I worry about what part 
of her I’ll miss most. 
She walked outside 
and put her head in her 
lap. Shadowless 
she sat under the clouds 
as the wind 
nestled her hair
tightly under her neck.

Slowly touching her hand
we took a breath
watching as the sky unfurled
and the trees danced
like ocean waves.
I could hear her 
love shine through
the new sparkles 
of grass as the sun
peaked out beyond
the bottom of the sky.

Will it always be this simple?


III

She told me about her father
and what a cruel bastard he was.
A constant drunk from the time 
she was born
she never had a chance.
He’d come around every 
once in awhile but
never once made 
the attempt you needed
to feel the love
you deserved.
And when she showed me the scars
I felt motionless.

She sniffled and rolled up her sleeves.
We shared the silence for a few seconds
and then I brought her in tight.
Brushing her hair back
I wiped the tears from her eyes
and told her
I will carry you with me
wherever I go.
She cracked a smile 
and hugged me once more.

In our naiveté
we had a feeling of forever. 

IV

She moved like a dream
suddenly appearing 
with eyes like daggers
of innocence
that penetrated 
the skin and 
melted me to my worth.

I’d hang my head low
moving past the pushers,
potheads, jocks, skaters, alcoholics,
wannabe frat boys, goth girls, scene kids, 
would be firefighters, would be marines, 
rockers, dropouts, nerds, boys to be men
trapped in the banality of their 
routine lives.
She knew them all
and all had her attention. 
And yet I knew
we could share something.

But how,
how could I be what she needed?
How could I be what she wanted?
It all starts with a question. 





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