Saturday, January 16, 2010

The Racketeer Cloaked In A Tacky Dress

i strangle my shirt as a rare expression hijacks my face
sending me on a parachute-less trip to a buried case
not the usual 6ft deep soul release
that sends black fashion crowds on flooded knees
but more of a mental box dropped off,purposely left to sit
on the corner of grow up an I’ll never forget
i lift the box…
an easily crack the code of the combination lock
simple task… seeing as.
they we’re the numbers representing our past
i fix my lips as im approached by a letter never opened
an suddenly my heartbeat at that second is stolen
i scan my setting for a crooked spy who only a few days back bumped in to me
her anxious force whispered she was out to steal my memories
she wore a tacky expression
that screamed deception
but enough about this character drenched in imperfections
i make a dash to an empty bench that haunts my lips
for it was the same one in which we shared our 1stkiss
i open the letter…perplexed as i see its blank minus the fine print
that reads [would you remember me if i didn't really exist]
an at that moment i realize the crooked spy
was you in from a future time getting rid of whatever was you and i…..

[should i still remember you?]

1 comment:

  1. this is very nice. did u write it?