Home » Poems » Danielle White » Harden Street, 1958 (Part Four)

Harden Street, 1958 (Part Four)

con't

The damn memories
are still so clear.

And now I am alone,
the only one left
because my brother
sliced his neck
in what has become
a family tradition,
that is, to leave
of your own volition.

If I could only get
the reruns to quit
maybe my goddamned
head wouldn't split

and I wouldn't feel so

fragmented

broken into a million
disassociated pieces
in a fugue
until it ceases.

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Karen Feist

Date: 8/17/2008 8:09:00 PM

Truly, the "rating system" just doesn't apply here. How does one rate this series a "7" when it is so beautifully written a number in the millions wouldn't do it justice? I have read every piece, including 'what the hell happened' and I will finish commenting at the end of the end of that series. I imagine that these bios really strike a nerve in the reader who has been exposed to 'similar' sicknesses of the heart. I am going to read all of your work from now on. Excellent reality check! k

Vince Suzadail Jr.

Date: 7/21/2008 2:17:00 PM

No one, repeat no one, deserves this. You can't change the past, only the future. You need to be able to look in that mirror and know you desrve better, much better. Excellent piece of writing. God Bless. Vince