and the blending accounts for nothing by Ava Blu
i stand in a room feeling like my life is on display,
my wounds apparently the main topic and
the blue in my hair is considered an explanation for the bad decisions i've made.
i crawl around on the floor with the babies, i talk in accents, i take
off my glasses and i listen to the rain hit my arms so hard it feels like spikes.
i run this way. i take a breath and dive deeper just to hear something new.
i turn the air conditioner on full blast to drown out their conversations.
i can't take hearing them anymore.
i speak of love and hate as though the line between them is invisible and
i know it is. i explain why i take the steps i do, why i jump with the rope around our waists
and why i keep wearing the same shirt every day.
there's a small chance i won't see the end of this month. a small chance a tornado will crash my plane, take my car, find its way inside my heart.
there's a small chance i will scream out a thousand names and no one will know why i chose those names, why at that moment a stranger felt more like home than the people i love.
love and hate walk into a bar, order a shot of whiskey and laugh over the victims who believed one existed without the other.
and i sit beside them, i throw quarters in empty shot glasses, i take off my glasses and can see further than ever before.
and i wish to be dreaming.
my wounds become the wallpaper around me. my wounds become red.
and the blending of the memories doesn't account for my lies.
06/02/2011 Posted on 06/02/2011 Copyright © 2025 Ava Blu
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Alison McKenzie on 06/03/11 at 07:39 AM Your poetry always sneaks a couple of walups in, right to the gut. That happens usually just when I'm falling into the depth of your verses, that bottomless vortex I am pulled into every time I read your words. I always walk away, glad that you are still around to write them. |
Posted by JJ Johnson on 06/03/11 at 10:20 AM This is an excellent piece of external introspection. I like the imagery and I love the line "love and hate walk into a bar, order a shot of whiskey and laugh over the victims who believed one existed without the other." it's the truest thing I have ever heard. I also like the idea of tornadoes in the heart. The brutal honesty of the final line is very powerful. jj |
Posted by James Zealy on 06/03/11 at 06:42 PM I really liked this ava, to state how every body notices you for all the reasons that don't make a damn, but fail to see your vision of reality that is very stark and meaningful. The only part I did not understand was the last line and how it fit with the rest of the piece ie "the blending of the memories doesn't account for my lies". Especially the last two words. This felt like a true statement of how you perceive the rest of the world sees you. |
Posted by Shawnacy Perez on 06/04/11 at 08:06 AM i love the voice of this. this .. matter of fact dissection of a soul.
and such a parade of images... tornados that weasel their way into the heart, the screaming of names, love and hate chatting over whiskey, and wallpaper wounds...
just ... strong, strong stuff. |
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