A new old strife
that lives on the edge of a knife.

Be polite. Don't ask about the bruises. 
Each one, belts looped like nooses 
patted rosey with excuses. 

I'm foolish.
Angry I can have everything except
his wedding ring...
Spinning, watered down maybes
making me crazy.
Skidding towards the wall - - -
Crash - and lose it all.

The fall.
So small in my hands your ballooned heart,
blistered, skin shredded apart.
Wheel fell off my cart when you withheld the dark and left a mark in the shape of a kiss; oh how I miss those lips lingering lovingly on mine. Whispering everything would be fine. 
Dragging the corpse of our love behind.
The clock turned midnight and horses turned to mice. 
Back. Back to rags and knees on rice. 
Heart of ice,
the shadow of a soulmate shall suffice. 

Hit a low and questioning fate.
Squeezing strands of air, not shadows of a soulmate. 
A love not reciprocated but true.
Made it past a few traps of glue
into you -
Scared by the tangles of my hair you caught my heart in a snare
and said 
do not despair -
And how is it babe you can keep me here?
Pulled into your stare as the water pushes down
and it drowns

you and me,

our family. 

Kristina Rose Garcia [2021]

Published by misskris726

Bronx poet, artist and educator.

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