Danielle White Poet Bio

What the Hell Happened? (Part Three)

con't
and she felt her grasp slipping, slipping,
sweating hands gripping,
as her facade began to tilt
she feels no guilt
she was always good, good she tells herself
and believes it
the universe she is the center of is now out of sync
her star erodes
implodes
and her weakened soul
becomes a galactic worm hole
oh, God, she remembers when she was just a girl
grasping a silver spoon
as the world danced to her tune
now she's locked in the bathroom
the metal barrel clicks against her perfect teeth
as the bullet breaks the peace
and blows out the back of her head
the blood so red
against the black and white tiles
pieces of hair and scalp
then she's back in the Alps
in the snow
not realizing she's toppled the first domino
as she watches her life review
she has no clue
she cannot avert her eyes
to her surprise
she is shown the future that she created
as her soul clutches with dread
she's dead
and instead of relief
there is devastation and grief
and we all awaken to her ghostly moan
for now it's written in stone
and she is powerless as she is swallowed by the darkness
alone, alone.

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Karen Feist August 17, 2008 at 8:19 PM I like to believe that we choose our missions here on Earth. As horrendous as some of them are, there are reasons. Your writing is one of the results of all of these happenings. Your talent is over the top! I was right there with you under the porch and with her as she roams the earth alone. Powerful writing, Danielle. I am at a loss for words on how this work of literature struck my core belief system. Thank you for turning tragic events into works of art. Peace and love to you, Karen

Vince Suzadail Jr. July 21, 2008 at 2:09 PM This was written well, a lot of anguish in it that must have been difficult to write. Somehow you get the feeling that it never will balance out. Have a wonderful day, Danielle. Vince