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Guardian Angel

 

Shame goes by many names

Not the least of which include:

death and destruction

or guardian angel

 

Also      – to the tune of blank wall

white noise and a neon Exit sign

flashing

and disappearing whenever I make a move to leave.

 

Try to create a life story against this backdrop

primordial slime segments into another creature

Not a one belongs to me

So that’s it.

I have no story

But the S is unmistakable – yes

of the many names, death

 

you claim that you saw me there

but I have long since left the scene of the crime

 

I am urged to rebirth

myself

via ruby rivulets of the arms and legs

to splice together a history forgotten

suspended, really, in time

a little bubble with angel wings

She turns to dust until I look away

but follows carefully, in case I make a bold move

Remember, she says

A harpy you will become

lest you remain wrapped

haunted, my dear

But you know, it’s better this way

 

The rawest bile burns my face my ears down to my hands

 

I try to end each poem

with a light note, or

resolution

at least a taste of bittersweet

I’ve got nothin’

my guardian angel, with so many names

 

while the wounded lay in heaps, I continued on as a ghost

 

No one even knew what had become of me No one saw the hit

or even that I had died of a broken heart

 

“Join us for a gracious dinner, where my wife will play the bones!”

they cried.

 

I broke the ball when she wasn’t looking, just like popping

a pink bubble gum balloon, and as a reward

I was showered

in fairy dust .

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Signs of Life: A Sharpened Lens Copyright © 2024 by Zomi Bloom. All Rights Reserved.