Rovva

I heard a voice yesterday.
I can't say it was yours
because it was muffled
through my bedroom wall.
All I know is your memory.
All I know is how to cry.
I don't want you to see me
because I'm embarrassed.

I have eight minutes to write this piece.
Where do I start?
I make a few lines,
blah blah blah,
but does it mean something?
Where am I going?
Ah! Too many thoughts!
Seven minutes now.
Tick tock, tick tock.

You always wanted to be a pirate.
The scrapes on your knees
from falling off of your bike
are worse now than ever.
You always raised the flag higher.
It's flapping in the garden
where you used to play,
but it's been worn out.

I want to be surrounded by the woods,
a cool summer breeze flowing through my hair,
caressing my bare cheeks,
a bluejay somewhere in the branches,
a book laying open on the couch
across from the fireplace where I sit

Run like a hound on the hunt,
you stupid little thing.
It's a big wide world out there
and you're weak.
You'll never make it out alive
with those heels.
Paint your face with the blood
of your child body.

Eyes like daggers,
you wish you hadn't fazed her.
They're flaring red
and you'll wince at them over
and over again.
She's a sorceress wielding
and you're trapped.
She'll cast a spell on you.
Now you're hexed.