There was a blur in his history,
a void that he needed to fill
with a growing pain that he couldn’t chase
or find a cure.
He needed to make sense of it,
and so he created a fabrication.
A possible answer to past trauma,
a stranger, he said, that left him bound
and gagged.
It was simple, just a story
of two people, one a predator
and the other a victim.
Isn’t that how most hardships start?
The colors are always red and black.
The words always foreshadowing
the inevitable.
It begins with an innocent smile
like pretty flowers blooming in the fields
or two lovers in a passionate embrace
caught off guard.
Then the plot thickens:
The awful touch, the push and pull.
The horrible image lingers.
The nightmares, the broken trust.
Songs and faces that stink
of lies and miscalculations.
An unwanted exchange, a denial,
a slap in the face.
False memories that never go away.
That’s really powerful.
Thank you, hitandrun. This one had its origin from my days as a therapist. 🙏🏻
Well said.
🙂
This is very very good Mark. Intense. My favorite lines: “He needed to make sense of it, and so he created a fabrication.” So good.
Thank you, tara. 🙂
A beautiful poetry, Mark.
Thank you, Kamal. 🙂
Welcome Mark
Oh, isn’t life like that
“It begins with an innocent smile”
maybe it ends that way as well. 🙏🏻😎
Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
Thanks, jenanita.
The basis for many a good tale!
Absolutely! 🙂
‘Songs and faces that stink of lies and miscalculations’ Good poem.
Thank you, Robyn.