The Deep End
The Deep End
I used to jump
Into the deep end of the pool
6 feet deep
Or was it 8?
I’m not sure,
All I remember is the water
Raking through my hair
Pushing into my noise
A dull light flickered behind paper shades. From beneath the woolen covers of a bed across the room, two frightened eyes watched the light’s final throes. The flickering ceased and the room filled with shadow. A gasp came from the bed; the tiny figure beneath the blankets lay rigid with fear. A wary arm reached out from under the covers toward the side of the bed against the wall. It searched frantically along the mountains of cloth and wool but could not find what it sought. The hand returned back under the heavy blankets and flipped them up. A little girl was revealed, with long auburn hair draped over a floral-patterned pillow. The blankets slid down and bundled at her waist as her torso lifted from the bed. Lucy was gone. The bear doll, with button eyes and mottled brown mohair fur, had never left her side. But at some point amidst the parade of shouts and curses between the girl’s mother and father, Lucy had been forgotten.
The morning after I woke to the door left ajar,
A choice was to be made, to close it, or open it wide knowing by now you were far,
I opened it, and the fabric that once tied me down, fell, liberating me of my chains and shackle,
Keep your popcorn with your boots
And your boots with the spiders
All covered in webs—stringy and white.
Keep your chocolate with your school books
And your school books with the trash