Little Silver Cup

Page by page the letters fall,

Are crumpled, smashed, and thrown,

Unto this silver cup I call, 

Tonight I am alone.

Smoking musky words abroad,

Into the evening air,

These embers flay the fuming fraud

Burned up in my despair. 

Consumed by fire, words ignite

The sacrifice is justly made

As tear stained pages fill the night,

Rending hearts, our price is paid.

Within this little cup I pour

Your promises and paper lies,

Purging evil, I’ll ignore

The ashes as they rise.

Page by page, my tribute’s cast

Every letter sets me free.

Look no more on what is past,

But what I intend to be.

Sights and Sounds

There was a siren in the night.

Blood stained asphalt.

 My mother screaming 

“Oh my God.”

While Irene and I 

 Huddled near the shoulder.

“We shouldn’t have run;

I thought we could make it.”

Merry Christmas, everybody.

Hospital lights blinked,

Machines yawned.

I was tired too, but more angry

Than anything else.

I didn’t want to be there.

Not with all the patronizing

Church ladies,

Swarming in with their 

Condolences and flowers.

 
I often wished it had been me,

Me that had been hit,

Me that had almost died.

I wonder if Irene ever felt the same?

I wonder what it was like to watch 

Her mom struggle for two years in recovery?

Irene always said life was hell growing up.

Her mom never really loved her.

I wonder if the accident changed that?

When Irene’s mom got hit, 

My brain told me it was my fault.

That I shouldn’t have yelled “Go!”.

Years later, Irene’s brain told her 

That she likes girls.

And I have always wondered

What those two things have in common.

What if I am the reason Irene

Decided to cross the road?

Just Friends

I didn’t know what to think the first time he asked me. Standing there, trembling in the night’s cold air, I nodded hesitantly. What did I have to lose? It’s not like I’d signed a marriage contract or anything. It was just a date. One night, two friends, and endless possibilities. We’d been close for over a year now; no harm in giving “us” a try. He smiled. 

A week later, curled up on the grass, twigs biting my bare toes, I poured my story out to him. I hugged my knees and let the words rush out. I figured he should know. The safety pins in my pockets, Courtney’s fingers in mine. My head pressed against the cold toilet seat every night after dinner. My naked words just wanted someone to accept them. But he was ashamed. 

Just friends, he said, as if that’s what we weren’t already. Just friends and nothing else. But he meant something more like, your story scares me. Because really “just friends” aren’t friends at all. “Just friends” means, you screwed up and I don’t know how to say it nicely. “Just friends” means I thought you were better. “Just friends” means goodbye.

Pain Letting

As little red rubies sprout from her skin, 

Popping up like weeds from soft, pale, blue veins,

She wishes she could see his face again

And trade each loss for ruby-studded pain.

Her face, stone cold, as she watches her blood;

Daddy would never want Callie to cry

And so she plugs the constant raging flood

With pins and needles, lie upon lie.

The blood, they say, is where all life is found;

She carved a spring of youth upon her wrist.

But in the letting, lost a dearer sound.

Her heart grew quiet, slipped into the mist. 

I promised him I’d live out all his dreams,

But life, I’ve learned, is harder than it seems.

Mattel Model

Darkened hallway, dimly lit

Creaking door, silence split.

Muffled cries, childish pleas

Tear-stained hands, blackened knees.

This was home, now it’s not.

Where I broke, I forgot.

Like my naked dolls I lay;

Here becomes my soul’s display.

Daddy mock me,

Mommy frock me,

Parents play me well.

Those who dress me,

Those who bless me,

Break my naive spell.

My Barbie sits with hollow eyes

With empty chest and matted hair

She beg forgiveness from her lies

And wonders if I care.

The game abandoned long ago

I leave her on the floor,

I’ve learned the secrets big girls know

And I don’t care no more.