back of the bus

I still taste you on my tongue.
the taste of metal
still lingers in the back of my throat
but it’s being over powered by sweet vanilla.
a crack in the framework,
a line in the glass,
a fracture in the bone
reminds me of that time it all went up in flames
and I was holding the matches
when the fire trucks came screaming up.
set that in a cast,
give it a few months to heal.
can your heart pump blood
if it’s constricted and bound?
will you pass out from blood loss
or from the fear of it all?
can you feel it pulsate in your fingertips?
your heart is trying to tell you something
that you’re not ready to hear with your ears
so it takes another pathway
in attempts to right your soul.
can we right this ship
or should take on water on purpose?
is it right to plan to lose
or have you lost before the game has even begun?
that spot on the trophy shelf is empty,
you’ll put your award for failing there.
everyone gets a ribbon after all.
“good effort” for your lack of effort.

unscrew those pieces together,
apologize or un fuck you or whatever.
“was that genuine?”
he asks with sorrow in his eyes.

the night sky is playing tricks on your senses
as you wait for the sun to fall,
you’re hoping the stars don’t land in the seas
but If they do, it’ll be a pretty picture.
as long as it looks good, right?
a perfect image is all we need in this life
smile through those fangs
and show what everyone “knows” to be true.

a fracture in time,
a portal into the future
tethering you to the past
and holding you down.
did I give you permission to tie me up and constrict my airways?
is this the part where you say you knew I wanted this?
is this the part where you assume we’re all the same
and we let you throw a tantrum in the store
and everyone looks away?
does no one know how to set the record straight?
let the rumors fly
and it’ll all sort itself anyway
as long as we don’t age or show our colors,
we can all live happily ever after
in this bubble of lies and half truths.
“hush little girl”
words dripping with disdain
on the back on his hand across her face.
no bruises this time.
he’s getting better at his technique
across the freckles on her nose

3.30.16

 

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