The Errand
Maybe we're the checkmark at the bottom of someone's to-do list.
I wonder and worry about the rays of light
Trickling into my mind that have triggered a blight
Among my crops and displaced the ocean of dreams
Swirling around feral thoughts and pretty wishes
Unfettered by the chains tossed at me
Like prize money, the flowers after a show.
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It becomes harder to ignore.
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Those thoughts, trains long since having left the station,
Sloshed overboard and dripped from my eyes,
Plopped angrily against cracked asphalt
And shimmered beneath a flickering neon sign
That watched and judged and made sure every little girl
Played by the rules.
*******************************
It’s impossible to ignore.
*******************************
What am I to the dancers twirling in my mind?
Who am I to the executioner, the king above him?
A shadow. A thought of a thought.
An errand.
*******************************
I cannot be ignored.
How have I been ignored?
I am an errand.
A shakey checkmark splashed on a bloody page.
Little more than a fleeting ask, fulfilled.
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About the Creator
Silver Serpent Books
Writer. Interested in all the rocks people have forgotten to turn over. There are whole worlds under there, you know. Dark ones too, even better.
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