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This Is How It Ends

I.

This is how it ends:

Two sneakered feet pounding

Staccato hearts into the blackened tar

Of the streets, yelling.

*(But what are they yelling?

A name. My name.)*

And my platinum hair is up

Out of my face, so the wind kisses

My cheeks, turns them red and blue

Like me: Red, for the number of times

He will one day turn the color of my shame

To a scalding hot 10; and blue,

The cloud that lays

Over me, when he proves my instincts right

When they told me to run.

 

This is how it ends

And I’m six and overhearing

My mother tell my dad to

Do a different dance on

Someone else’s blackened tar,

And now they live in a cute house

Under a cloudless sky

With my dog and seven reasons why

They never look up and see me there,

Older and darker but

Always running to the south,

Away from their winter.

This is how it ends.

But not for him.

 

This is how it ends:

Pictures on a feed

Spinning realities you’ll never taste

And never need

With slings and smiles and

Canned joy, selling success for a nickel

And sadness for a dollar.

It ends, and you see her

With her dyed hair and lipstick

*(Red, to remind you

And red, to forget you)*

And you pause – because, really,

Did you expect that you couldn’t?

And suddenly you start seeing her

Silhouette in every doorway and

Hearing her heavy steel words

Laying like anchors on your heart

Always pulling, tugging, moving towards her

And that beautiful sunny day when

She looked through you for

The last time.

*(You wonder how a ghost

Could feel this heavy)*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

II.

This is how it begins:

One coffee full of

Too much cream, and laughter

Ringing too loudly

In your ears

Because of something you said.

And footsteps slapping on

Wet concrete, meeting tiny slippered

Eager feet, feeling safer now

Hugged by tiny hands

Than in his strong arms that left you

Bruised.

It begins in the quick silences

Between sentences, and meanings

Upon words, and breaths

Between kisses

Atop laps,

Atop chairs,

Atop wishes.

It begins when you listen

And you’re sitting in your car

Watching dusk paint the sky

And you can feel the groan of the earth

Beneath you, see the planet revolve itself

Into darkness, and you can’t hear her

Caustic voice and

The way she sounded when she left, and

You can’t feel his hands on you or his

Beard where it chafed your thighs – no,

That is where it ends.

And this is where you start.

(Unload the anchors from your heart.)

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
genma-j
American
Published
Oct 14, 2014
Lines·Words
86·444
Tags
#depression#heart#sadness#beginning#anchors
Permission

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