Tag: Magic Box

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Episode 122 – Grave

The yellow crayon
looked like the sun.
She wanted to take it 
inside her body,
color over her fear,
but she pressed too hard
and the crayon broke 
into pieces.
She began to cry.

Her best friend rescued
the sunny segments
and tried to press them
back together.
Her tears made him feel
like he did when his mother
yelled at him.
He hated when his mother
yelled at him.

I’m sorry, he said
to the teacher.
I broke the yellow crayon.

* * *

The girl, now grown,
doesn’t want to hear
that he loves her,
tiny and scared,
ugly and evil.
That he remembers
the yellow crayon.

But his is the only voice
she can hear.
Her rage recedes
as a volcano of sorrow
storms from her eyes.

And he holds her.
Just that.

* * *

When the world returns,
it’s spring,
when flowers reach up
and we crawl from the ground
to follow,

far from wellness, 
but healing,
able to see the beauty
of the blossoms.

And when we least expect it,
our soul returns.

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Episode 121 – Two to Go

girl fight 
between friends
both strong
who wins

* * *

A strawberry, ready to pop,
but instead of sweetness,
there is putrefaction,
threatening even friends.

For there are no friends
when love is dead,
only fading moments
when love told her 
she was beautiful.

Then death –
the great eraser.

If darkness disappears, 
she is left with nothing.
Love is dead 
and sorrow squeals
its hatred.

A naked throat 
is vulnerable
to a blade,
to a bullet.

And if the skin bleeds,
the pain escapes,
leaving behind
an empty shell.

Raise your swords, 
if you must.
There is no protection.

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Episode 120 – Villains

Rage fills my heart where love once lived 
and fury moves into the room that housed the bullet.
So small the wedge that pierced her heart.

So complete my loss,
that humanity bails
leaving her behind,
still warm,

     (so warm)

a gift for the gods
though they don’t deserve her.

Like a demon hound, 
I track her killer through the woods.
He’s full of words, but no remorse,
not that it would matter.

I string him up between two trees,
silence the savagery of his voice. 
Then I strip him of his skin, 
like pa with a summer rabbit.

Nothing survives 
when rage moves in.

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Episode 114 – Older and Far Away

I’m lonely.
So 
    many
         in
               my
                   life
                         have
                              disappeared.

I collect trinkets
to keep me company,
stolen from those who ignore me,
presents for those who should care.

Stay up all night with friends.
No one wants to leave.
I wish it were for love of my company,
but it’s secrets
        lurking 
               inside
                     the walls,
locking all the doors to keep us in.

In the light, we grow hungry.
Day beckons,
but the doors won’t budge.
Trapped we are,
together, battling demons.

If only you could hear my screams.

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Episode 113 – Dead Things

Your hands were not bound, your feet were not fettered. 
You fell as one falls before the wicked. 
2 Samuel 3:34, NIV

* * *

There’s nothing comfortable
about this relationship.

It’s not even a relationship.
It’s just passion.
I’m a passionate person.
You’re a passionate person.

Well, you’re not really a person,
but you were a person
and sometimes I see that
and I like you.

Then I remember 
all the harm you’ve done.
All the sadness and destruction
at your hands.

I don’t know what’s come over me
(desire)
(mad desire)
to love a man like you.
But you’re not a man
and I don’t love you.

From behind, 
you slip your arms around me.
Fingers slither down my arm.
Slowly 
down my thighs.
Then up.

And I’m lost.

If they knew,
they’d think me mad.
I’ve got it bad.

But you’re dead.
I’m dead inside.
When you’re inside, 
I feel.
Something. 

It’s okay if I love you,
but I don’t.
It’s okay if I don’t.
And I can’t.

It’s wrong
I’m wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.

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Episode 108 – Tabula Rasa

If you can make me 
forget the lies you told,
would you steal 
my other things?

Even my dreams?

Leaving you
and the stories behind,
I fly away
from the blue
of your eye,
the smile I thought
meant you were happy.

Memories, all
up in smoke
like a witch’s spell,
and even if I love you,
I don’t remember.
You stole that 
from me too.

Are you my partner
or my editor?
Lover or predator?

I carry boxes
out the door,
leaving you 
to find regret
on the bathroom 
floor.

It would have 
been easy 
for me to stay,
but you gave that,
you gave it away.

You stole my 
memories.
Would you lie
and take my 
other things?

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Episode 106 – All The Way

Boy 
with an S on his jacket,
red and yellow,
the color of love.

Our lips meet
(my first,
his not).

I kiss all the time
I lie,
pressing together
his to mine.

First kiss,
tongue or no,
then again.

Lips,
not too wet,
not too dry.

Stumbling together
through the mist,
we roll in leaves,
his breath hot
against my neck.

But he bites
(my first,
his not).

He reveals 
his true face
and I am not 
repulsed.

But he 
does not survive.

First date.  
And yet 
I have to take his life 
to save my own.

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Episode 105 – Life Serial

With the ring
of a bell
my day begins.

Work.

Tons of tedious tasks.
Trails of treachery.
Tripping over
my soul
until I’m dead.

Work.

Satisfy the customer
and the cycle ends.
But only until
it begins again.

At night
I try on darkness.
It has whiskey,
blue eyes,
and ears to hear
my sorrows.

Weekends tease
with time to tarry,
but oh so very short.

Work.
Work.
Work.

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Episode 103 – After Life

In white she appears, taking his breath, 
though in truth he’d lost it a century before.  
Her, he’d lost 
seven plus 
      forty plus 
one hundred days ago.
A hero’s death, though it matters not.

She stands small, weary from her journey, 
her hands torn and bloodied. No one guesses 
how they got so damaged, but he knows, 
having fought the same battle back from the grave.

He is tender, soothing her wounds with 
Mercurochrome and gauze, the only one 
she can feel tortured with. He knows torture, 
having dished out and taken his share.  

Her sadness spills from his eyes and he 
slams his hand. In his dreams, he’d saved her. 
But despite strength, despite promises, despite 
love, she died.  

I’m fine, she lies, struggling to make it 
from one moment to the next. Her secret, 
she shares only with him. She can’t let 
her friends know what she’s lost.

She was in paradise, not purgatory, 
ripped back into a world of darkness 
by those who claim their love. 
Now they expect her to be happy.  

But what is happiness to a soul 
that’s been at peace? Can a story, 
once complete, begin again?

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Episodes 101 & 102 – Bargaining

Lying underground, 
blond hair on white pillow,
fingernails and hair 
still growing after death,

I awaken in my coffin, 
gasping for air, 
clawing through silk, 
through wood, 
through dirt,
summoned back 
by your heartbreak.

But you, so selfish 
in your sadness,
forgot where I lay 
when you called me back,
and assumed my time away 
was filled with sorrow.