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

deprivation.

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.