Tight

Pictures of us strung together,
on popcorn garlands coast through the day.
“Smile with your teeth;
stand here;
put your arm around her;
stand like a man;
sit like a girl”
Their words—
the ones we banded together to rebel against,
as an unified army of two.
Battles upon battles we fought;
you covering the front, me the back.

Now, our golden swords hang in my living room—
a reminder that it was real.
And I sit in front of them—
the garland of pictures,
the blood stained swords tightly strung together.

I sit and sit;
decades later–
Tired.

Still, hopeful—
not for what we had
not to be bound so tightly to you,
but for what’s next,
the next page for us.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s