Sunday, March 6, 2011

Sometimes, I look back...

Sometimes, I look back
And think.
About the blood red
Poison.
About the swimming
Head,
And the drowning
Whole of me.
Sometimes, I look back,
And see.
The light reflecting and refracting
From underneath
The water.
Waves lolling around above my head
And it is obvious,
I am under.
Sometimes, I look back
And hear.
Like my head is in
A cloud,
And my ears are all
Waterlogged.
Ringing, and spinning, and...
The words have all slowed
To a crawl.
Quivering voice,
Cracking from the inside
Out.
Sometimes, I look back
And feel
The warm rush
Climbing up the back
Of my neck,
Flushing my face,
Red and hot, the heat fades up
Shading my eyes with
An optical illusion,
A cloudy film that covers my eyes
In dreamland.
Sometimes I look back,
And taste
The same old bittersweet
Lingering on the back of my tongue,
Mixing with the salty
Warm and metallic taste
Of my own blood.
Sometimes, I look back,
And smell
The sweet smoke
Rising in the distance,
Sweet, sweet poppy flower
Burning gentle against the shiny metal,
The smoke rises
From the bittersweet brown liquid
Swirling
And spinning
Before the fire inevitably
Spreads
Killing all that grows
Nearby.

Sometimes, I look back
With fond eyes
And reminiscent tears...
Burning once more
When I smell that smoke
Burning like dead flesh,
A million wasted lives,
Past in its wake.
Mothers and fathers,
Sisters and brothers...
Friends.
All lost in the fucking fire.
Too many dead.
And even more wasted.

I look back,
On the burned wood,
Curled from the heat,
And buckling into ashes...
I am lucky I got out,
Smoke pouring from the building,
Nearly engulfing me, too
I think, sometimes...
I am still damaged from smoke inhalation.

I kiss the ground.
I kiss my baby.
And I kiss my fucking life.
Because...
I made it out of the fire.

Unfortunately,
We are not all so lucky.

4 comments:

  1. This is beautiful. I'm so very glad you made it out, too.

    Love you,

    SB

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  2. Could have sworn I left a comment here. I came back to read this again. If I didn't comment I meant to. This is very powerful and hopeful.

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  3. YOU are powerful. You are amazing. I am so grateful that you have the life you have earned, that you are constantly walking away from that fire.

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