Put Something Nice On
Your trodden words, arm hidden scalpels
Waiting, lurking neath, a fragile castle
Arrived to taunt both God and Nature
The mornings sun had risen to stroke Pandemic heaven
And I felt the joyful rush of dawns perfection
As dressed in my finest Sunday raiment
My voice chirping ruby, I entered happily the kitchen
To hear` the air curdle caustic
Your quicksand voice catheterizing nordic
“Aren’t you going to get ready?”
“That dress isn’t even fit for a charlady”
With expert precision the blade carved my ego
And my doormat covered shell retreated into a spiral
A million spinning pieces that cruely` shattered my world
While you rifled my closet for something for me to don
Then handed me your choice saying “Here put something nice on”
You called me your queen to all that could hear
While I was hiding under a haze of gloom and despair
My smile hid the beauty not felt
While being your happy illusion under a whipping belt
Of words that threw me into turmoil and confusion
Hid from by a wagon I’d erected in a circle of protection
Till one day the cinder maid beaten into a lonely corner
Costumed to the world by the cruel overseer at his pleasure
Whipped by words of abuse in the cruelest form
One day the whip reached out one last time to harm
And she took the road that would end it all
Over his coffin they heard her say in a queenly drawl
“I couldn’t find anything nice to bury you in”
(clarice) 11/07/2011
Written in reflection of this comment I made on Remedy
by Rose Morales
I wrote “From out of the recesses s come a flow of emotions at
the drop of a word in unexpected moments” It was a surprise to me
the direction it took
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