Where did you go?
I remember spring days
the shadows were long that year
my tube socks were pulled down until they bunched like day old donuts at my ankles.
I spent a lot of time outside those months
just feeling the cool spring breeze
the kind that clings to the part of your elbow
the part that looks like a ballsack.
I was heartbroken
torn in two, one end clamped down to the dirt
crimson and ruby raindrops fell as it was shorn
and lifted away towards heaven.
Dripping down to cracks in the concrete slab that was the hearts replacement.
A beating, pulsing organ no longer, this monolith
now glutted
vowed to no longer yield.
Where did you go?
I look for you everywhere
in the mirror on the way out the door.
A snatch in the corner of my cornea.
A whiff in conversation.
There’s a tingle in that woman’s face
it pours over me like a deluge of blueberries muffins and shag carpeting
hiding the rot
lost in smoke.
I look for you in her eyes
curled at the foot of her lips
her head on my chest
a phantasmagoria of the wounded.
Who gave you this fear?
You threw me in the trunk and brought your shovel too.
Black bagged and suffocating you plunged me six feet
into the world.
And now with nothing more than a picture and a bucket
I wander the halls of the blind
blind men
unwilling or unbidden by pride to remain ensconced in darkness
pulled along by the vicious press.
The picture faded, the bucket long overfull
what’s the point of looking
I can’t recall your face or your manners
as real to me as a dream
living Polyphonically
residing in homes and crevasses
blinded by hate and hunger scratching a living on scraps
with this hateful creature I will go outside
have a smoke
it’s Christmas after all
the end result of a lifetime of second guesses
not this time
this time I got the reds and I’m pretty happy with it.
About the Creator
Iain J
NYC based actor; mostly nobody
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