When He Left
by Aaron Blair
When he left,
he left us our limbs,
our tiny, tattered scraps of pride,
and we did a lurching dance,
broken, but not so much that we
could never get back up again.
We thought that we were free,
because we did not understand
the nature of cages,
the way a collar can change
your flesh, sink into your skin.
A thousand years into the future,
his voice on the answering machine
infects this new life that I've built.
My heart strains against the bars of my ribs,
desperate to escape a prison
that it had convinced itself did not exist.
Author's Note: "I will surprise you, some time. I'll come around when you're down." - Interpol
Posted on 10/17/2011
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair
|Member Comments on this Poem
|Posted by Kristine Briese on 10/17/11 at 06:14 PM
This leaves the reader with echoes of that desperation. Excellent work.
|Posted by Shannon McEwen on 10/17/11 at 08:47 PM
I agree, this left me feeling the strain against my ribcage, love it.
|Posted by Mo Couts on 10/18/11 at 02:49 AM
OMG Aaron, this gripped me so tightly I could barely breathe; loved it.