Should’ve never unpacked. All
this time I’ve tried to find
a reason to stay. You seared us
and set fire to everything we made.
Page after page. Should’ve known
better than. Ashes never settle
unless smudged onto a surface–in
the way you greyed my skin. The
harder I tried to bathe you away
the more I rubbed you in. As dirty
as the Dust Bowl–thirsty for justice
from the rain. I know I’ll soon forget
you, though I’ll never be the same.
When I move on and need an extra
box it’s the dead weight of dust
I’ll blame.
No Credit to Your Name
29 Tuesday May 2012
Posted Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized, writing
in
seventhvoice said:
What a great poem. I loved the analogy of rubbing ashes into your own skin…… Well done!