Thursday, July 2, 2015

Pariah of the Hallway.


Pariah of the Hallway
by james bezerra
Never knew
there was
any such
emotion:
equal parts anger
sadness
frustration
disappointment
and desperation,
with just a sprig of betrayal garnish,
before I met you.
You could mix that
like those bartenders
at that fancy place downtown
where they make everything
with whiskies I’ve never heard of
and light orange rinds on fire
just to bring out the flavor.
In a single weekend
once
we had the sweetest night
soaking together
in that tub deep like a well,
so soft and pliable
to one another’s fingertips,
lips.
Then, twenty hours later
your screams
and me slumped into the bottom corner of a closet,
like laundry,
hiding and sobbing all at once.
Somehow,
back then,
I thought it was a good thing
we had that extra bedroom
where I slept
when we fought.
How much time did I stand in that doorway,
haunting that hallway
studying the knob
of our bedroom door?
No one
has ever made me feel
that violently.

I don’t know
how to feel about that.

.
.
.

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