Untitled Ekphrastic Poem

My beloved opposite…

Why does your heart race?

So fast within my body.

That was once yours.

You were so young.

So full of hopes and dreams.

So naive…

This world ate you up…

I see fragments of you…

Bits and pieces everywhere.

A name on my things…

That name is not mine.

I must look to the light.

And make peace with myself.

You must go to your past.

In the world of ever-shine.

I must leave that world.

The past is behind me.

Forever away.

Even my family.

I shall walk this world…

And clean up your mess…

I am the new you,

And I’m here to stay.

Earrings

The latching rubs against the steel 

as it stubbornly tries to keep it’s grip. 

It comes off with a pop almost no ear can hear. 

Place it on the counter, 

it’s moment to come is not yet. 

Jab the steel beam into the scar of the soft flesh. 

Inside it may poke and prod against closed skin 

before finding the hole on the other side. 

Breaking free of skin the steel beam gleams in 

the open air, before being smothered again by 

the rubber latching. 

It hangs limply onto the soft flesh it was placed on. 

Another latching is waiting it’s turn on the table as 

its own metal partner finds it mark in the ear. 

When the two meet again, they shall be ready 

to catch the attention of others around them. 

It is picked up, carefully, to not be dropped before 

coming face to face with it’s own steel beam. 

Clinging on with a gentle kiss, never wanting to come

 loose again.

Seashell Necklace

My grandfather’s house was built for his grandchildren. Many of us started our lives there. We lived in every room from one point in time to another. When I was to start middle school, I was staying in my grandparents’ room. It caught my eye the first night.

If it came from a beach, I wouldn’t know which. If it came from the ocean, I wouldn’t doubt it. If it came… but it didn’t. I found it. In my grandmother’s jewelry box. She didn’t give it to me yet.

I took it to school. I was without family for the first time. I needed a reminder of them. I kept it all through sixth grade year. Seventh grade year. Eight grade year. 

After years of treasuring the necklace, my bubbling guilt had finally reached the top. I showed my grandma the necklace. She laughed and said she knew it was still in the family. The necklace was mine. The necklace is mine. 

My grandfather’s house was built for his grandchildren… and so was everything in it.


What is in a title?

What is in a title?

It can imply one simple truth

But in reality after first viewing

There is more than one shade of hate revealed

Within the characters there is a type of hate that drives them

O.B., the innocent bystander 

Tired of getting the short end of the stick.

Sheriff Chris Mannix in his simple racism

Oswaldo Mobray, Joe Gage, Bob and Jody –

 Heartlessly marking down anyone in their perceived way.

General Sandy Smithers unable to hold back in face of a taunt.

John Ruth and his distrust of anyone for his greed.

Daisy Domergue in her cruel spews of death.

Major Marquis Warren and his cruel intolerance for bigotry

Which leads to the murder of the first actual character.

These outlaws can teach a simple truth:

There are many ways to hate.

In curses, in threats, in violence,

With a weapon, with a poison,

With a smiling face.

Loop

Sometimes I just want to quit… and I try to convince myself that it’s just a little bit of time left and it will all be over. It’s only a hill not a mountain and I can get through this. One foot in front of the other and I will soon be done. What if it’s not though? I want to hope I can manage, yet this abysmal feeling in my chest just screams back at me that it’s too much and I need to let something go before everything pulls me down all together. It’s just too much. It’s not worth doing it all at once. I need more time, more days in a week. Of course, that’s not possible and I should just give up. I don’t know if it is all the work or all the struggles or lack of time or if it’s just nothing at all but in my mind. Just a fear on repeat. Just an over processing imagination, but every hour seem more anxious than the last and nothing has let up just yet. I can convince myself to go for a few more miles, but it all catches up again. I just keep going in a loop… Sometimes I just want to quit… and I try to convince myself that it’s just a little bit of time left…

 

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