197 Miles

by Alison McKenzie

I rode the entire distance away from you,
Every window down,
My hair dancing wildly -
The projection of my soul -
Screaming into the abyss of traffic -
The music,
The freedom,
The realization that the dream is dead.
There will be no wake.
(I still wonder why the fire didn't wake us).

I once dreamed of a palace -
The gold
In hearts rich with seed and love,
Pissed away in rage and reason,
Chips and JD.
What was lost can never be rebuilt.

And I didn't know,
Until my nipples,
Twisted and groped,
Anguished in the objectification
Of who I might be to you,
That I could not breathe it back to life .
Too late
In a life of sleep
Where there is no room for a wake.

I know that grief is only useful
In the epiphanous flash of a moment.
My eyes are open
And the time stolen from our babies
Cannot build a family -

My path narrows -
Room for only one foot in front of my other,
I cannot go back.
I cannot go back.
The symphony of the water is barely a memory,
Quieted now in the forest of questions;
Rustling whispers in the wind;
The same wind that lifts my hair to dance wildly about,
197 miles away from one more closed door,
Home, alone, at last.


Posted on 06/28/2006
Copyright © 2024 Alison McKenzie

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Susan Q Tomas on 09/27/09 at 02:07 PM

Wow, I am so glad I read this. This is excellent, and it took me on a journey.

Posted by Allison Smith on 09/27/09 at 11:07 PM

This is excellent, thanks for posting.

Posted by Charlie Morgan on 09/28/09 at 09:26 AM

...home alone. [at last], 'to learn how to love yourself is the beginning of a lifelong love affair' a line by: Oscar Wilde. so has that started yet? maybe move him over in your heart and celebrate your One-ness. cool pome, ali.

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