M
It Was A Stormy Night
Restrained with fragile tie backs, weakened and frail by a handy man's mis-keep, she protects the the windows of his house; under still yet vibrant blue skies that have given far too little shade from the heat beatings she has peeled in. She guards firm as the sun unguards and vacates closer to a friendlier coast, taking rise in more appealing lands. Yet still she stands.
Hollowing winds advance touching and lifting her backside away from the home she longs for. It pushes and pokes whirling cold jokes warning of the pain to come beyond the horizon. Pewter gray clouds bully and box out light, opens up hurling, dropping dime on hail. Blades of grass lay in disarray, split ends chopped hap-hazardously. Cars and bikes cannot withstand the fight caving and denting under waves of frozen pelting. Disrepair is everywhere. She watches in stare, a lonely wait for hands to secure her close or to bring her in from the worst of the storm that is to come but time ticks and convicts her sixth sense. His absence of past tense is again presently relevant.
Shingles off hinges like one lone tooth floating in the wind. Crooked shutters swing feeling out for closure. No lash to grab on to. Aimlessly trashing and flailing and such.
A perfect storm of no touch and deadly lust.
Inherited
Are issues transferable,
like the warranty on my houses' new windows?
I hear my mother when I speak
but I see that it's me.
I feel her uncertainty when I run away from your hold wanting to love me.
I smell my father's cologne,
the alone he left me in pinned under a feeling of unwanted.
I've got his button nose and his handsome smile
and his way of not being around even in the moment.
I watched his avoidance for years as I saw him not.
He echoes in my house as I allow missed calls and unchecked voice mails.
I am my worst enemy bursting into a room and pausing the atmosphere,
pulling and rearranging all the oxygen and conversations to
“Who is she?”
I am insecure in that very moment.
I have my mother's eyes then.
They want to run
looking for my father's love,
his hug,
his protection but he isn't anywhere.
Are issues transferable?
I'd love you if they knew how to love for me.
In