Where Are You Going?

Where are you going? The question
burns in my throat. Agonizing pain as if
I have swallowed a spear. I need to know
where you are going. Are you travelling to a place
where little girls’ souls are draped across power lines
like ill-fitting clothes on clotheslines, where no one
cares to wear them anymore? Are you going
to the place where skulls burnished with brain matter
are used to sip tea? Men wearing singlets, holding
wooden-carved rifles smile and through the holes in
their cracked and rotting teeth it’s possible to see
destruction has been the plan all along. Will you tear down
all that the others have built, leave behind the burning embers
that scald the tongue when you try to remember? Isn’t it
easier to forget how it once felt to have the warm moistness
of a nectarine resting on your tongue while you reclined
in the sun, its fingertips reaching down to touch that spot
on your neck? Can you see the trees swaying in the wind,
yielding so easily, as if though they have no spine?
They say the war will be civil, blood shed like a dripping faucet
left running overnight instead of like festering hate
has been left in the sun so long, it now smells like death.
Will you ever not dream of the scent of burning flesh, hear
the crackling of flesh and bones as if the world is nothing more
than a fireplace? Will you not ever wake to find that screams
fill up more than the spaces in your mind, they surround you,
menacingly they advance on you until you finally break?
And then where will you go?

Peace & Love,

burned home and car


About Rosalind Guy

I'm broken & my soul is weary/ my weary soul rebels, fights/ anything & anyone who tries to heal me/I beat my head against a wall of memories/ trying hard to break free from the chain of memories/ I can only be free by saying it so/ i weave a necklace from words and finally/ I find freedom/ free free free. As you can see, words are powerful to me. As Maya Angelou said, words are wallpaper of the soul. I have lots of nightmarish memories that threaten to break me, but I learned a long time ago about the power of words. They can be used to heal and destroy anything that threatens to destroy the person. Words coupled with love have the power to save and heal. I am author of three books: Skinny Dipping in the Pool of Womanhood, Tattered Butterfly Wings, and Blues of a Love Junkie. I am a high school English teacher. I am a former reporter. I am a mother. I am a woman. I am a fierce advocate for those who cannot speak for themselves, those who's voices go unheard. Check out my Amazon author page at the following link: http://www.amazon.com/Rosalind-Guy/e/B00BGH5F88/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1432491754&sr=8-1.
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