She Could Be In That Place- A Poem

She’s missing….
I cant exactly report her absence to the local police
OH but I wanna blast her name over the loud speaker at the mall
Nicci please come to the help desk
Nicci please come to the help desk
I want to put her face on milk cartons so when someone finds her..
….if someone finds her, before I do, they know who to call
She is probably tucked away between the couch cushions
Next too a few loose cheerios, and a used Kleenex
You know at that house
Where that lil boy who still lives with his auntie
Found himself trying manly things on her
….or maybe she has fallen cavalierly underneath the passenger side seat of that lil red car
Where she should have hopped out of at the nearest red light
But found the only color he knew was green, and every mile marker was a scream
She could be drifting off to sea
On a piece of paper
As a poem forgotten, and never read outloud
…could she be falling off a shoulder shrugging
Her confessions , her feelings being dusted off…
Right into a pile of salt that preserves her previous persona
Wasn’t she fortified….complete
Immortalize her in this place before there is no turning back
That’s it….
She’s still , alabaster stone
Right there in one of those places I left her
Before the corruption of the moment was to much to come back from
Waiting to reunite with me bring me back into myself
Take control over my identity again
Make sense of the puzzling pieces of existence
To make straight the curving lines
To light the dark
And polish the dinginess that time
And pain
Can bring to something that should be glowing
That was glowing
That will glow again when I find her


Leave a Reply

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

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

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )


Connecting to %s