I once thought I knew of too many things,
and still home with my bearers,
still I thought I knew
but why did I try to karate chop my own throat
that night?
sister and mother my hand in each of theirs
held tight
oh just a boy,
twelve or less
my first crack, as it were
the first of a thousand more to come
I remember the night was cold
it was November, I guess.
embarrassed to the point a red blush had appeared
and I stood embarrassed at the cause,
and then again because the blush was there.
if you've ever blown up a bus,
you know what a lie is in the same second it ignites
this is because the lie barks up a loud distrust
but the truth is a whole other bite.
I recall the bus blowing up like it was yesterday,
two back doors swung open on the tow truck
as it drove away.
a flood of feelings, flowed like lava
though I could not feel,
mesmerized instead by the concrete melted
by the melted steel.
those two doors swung open,
and like two arms, saying I want to hug you.
August 27, 2010. © Anthony James , All rights reserved
