Saturday, March 31, 2012

Mahogany Conflicted

Mahogany waves of muddled hair snarled around her fingers,
sitting herself on the curbside,
under the invisible gods
that lay above in the blood stained sky, anticipated the end.

You hate the way people make you hate yourself.
The evil, divisive ways you batter your face
against the looking glass.
Your reflection, too crass to stare back at you.
Humiliation and the absolution of solitude
paired as a perverse match to coil you down
and stretch you back out of your contentment.
The safe haven you ran to as a child,
is far beyond your reach as an adult.
Refuge no longer exists in this concrete jungle that
use to be the sacred ground...
where innocence was treasured.
We prey on women like you
to keep the monster alive.
You sit there on the curbside
pathetic, consumed by your own
Love left you lonesome,
with no other friend than the setting sun
burning a little portion of skin
exposed on your shoulder.
You cry at the finality of knowing there is no way out.
The Fibonacci system takes its toll
while it multiplies that single variable that
annihilates you entirely as a person inside.

Her realm refused to conform to the world of the status quo.
Drenched in pain beyond her control,
there was not much left to do, than to let herself go.
A thought to unwind and the adventure to find
the ecstasy she expected
far out of her reach, was now ever so near.
Her mahogany waves floated down
to the fertilized soil
that rubbed raw against her bare feet.
Eyes clenched closed, holding back
a premature lifetime of toil,
as she laughed herself millions of lighters away
beyond the contact of any man.

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