You
You are the rattle
of my ceiling fan
clinking at the off beat of
the minute hand
A subtle thought
puts the memory of your
sun tanned brand
tracing the length of my
dream land
all the way to the second floor
of the apartment
the southern hemisphere
my bed
and my clenched cold toes
against the red
embarrassment
of my messy life
You come to mind again
as I think on it all
as I dress my face in gold
I remember your needle words
and the jolt to my blood
the mark on my diary
the scream of my spirit
like rainwater over pavement
I was as strong as a puddle
and I am still just as sad
Though I paint the words of my story
my message is the dance
of my eyes and their stare
I loved you like air
Even as you pinned me
to the snow and set me
with a cold cast
down and through the wide gate
I wouldve run from reason
if your arms were at the end
of the sandy blankets
and conscience stains
and I hoped they would be
But they weren't
You are a beastly error
that still speaks to my life
like a persistant cancer
like a criminal record
that forever floats into
applications and discussions
my internal scar will
always have your stupid name, a
kingly episode marking up, etching lines
into normal days like this
where your face doesn't belong
where your voice needs not be
Get away from me
This life is mine, I intend to live it well
Copyright © Allison Ballard | Year Posted 2012
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