I am blurred around the edges;
my smile brighter than my eyes
the camera points out
those windows
of our classroom
but,
it's my smile
I look
at
I don't remember
being caught
but here it is
beneath my fingertips
I trace my face
I trace my smile
I smile at my own
shadow
and lean toward
it
to look closely
there is hope
brimming
in my eyes
the smile
swallowing
the pain:
my turquoise earrings
dangling
like little
show pieces
glittering
in the fluorescent lights
my hair
in a trendy
updo
my turquoise dress
with the golden shimmer
in perfect contrast to
the brown in my eyes
(hanging neglected in my wardrobe, today)
it's a photo
of someone else
it doesn't
remotely
look
like
me
the walls of those classroom
take me to another era
where every dream
was slowly becoming
a reality
and every pair of feet
kept moving
to make
it to
the
finishing point
the green
outside the window
calls to me
like it did
in those days
I used to write our names
on the benches,
on the steel
of
those windows
I hope
they
find out
and wonder
whoever was brave
enough
to do
that...
___
©VioletEden
p.s. not sure if it could be certified a poem...
15thMay2017
YOU ARE READING
Vermillion
PoésieI have been surviving the past few years, counting on my hands, the days taking me, to the impending end. I will not. I will not sacrifice my hands anymore for something so sacrilegious. I color my hands with Vermillion, rub the pages of my noteboo...
