Surviving the Expiration

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Sometimes I wonder how I sleep,
with every moment captured in a dream,
haunting, tainting, captivating me.
Here I am.

Here we are.

I look upon you,
curious eyes.
How have we come to this?

I thank my God every day of my life,
whispered prayers He answered,
caught guilty in my selfish words,
but rewarded despite.

Might you take a moment to understand
that somehow you have taken me by the hand,
lead me to a different land.
Foreign veils of a new world.
How have we become those two?

They point when they see us.
We are privileged,
envied.
They are stolen by retracing steps,
and angry.

And riots of outrage,
must there be such turmoil?
We’ve not asked an opinion,
nor other emotions.
Must there be burning thatched houses
and poisoned wells
and cliff-diving resolutes
with frightful, furious spells?

Must there be a moment too soon,
where I may turn again to you?
May I not be always whole?

And on tongues sharp
with silver,
forks pitched in the air.
Why should this be so treacherous?
Why should anyone else care?

They told me
that this was temporary,
that you were lost to me.
That I shouldn’t breathe
a word more of your love for me.
They gave me a date
one, two, three, and more.
A date we would be torn apart,
and more broken before.

They spat curses of a silly monotony,
tedious to indifferent ears.
But how, why?
Perhaps, they’ve still not
lost those years.

And yet, gnawing at the back of my mind,
tearing slivers of my heart,
raking me with transparent claws,
their dates tore me apart.

They set fire to our hopes,
shot poison into dreams,
sent chills of nightmares into my darkness
and tortured me in my sleep.
Blinking lights
and heartbeat cry,
the thuds of a frightened child.
I listened, just so, tentatively
while they bribed, deceived, beguiled.

Am I holding on too tightly?
I wondered.

But this time, I’m looking up
face into the horizon.
My eyes cast amber by fires and pyres,
my skin dyed black by the ash.
But this time I’m vulnerable
and I’ll give it all,
if you just hold me still.

We outlasted the fire,
we cured the poison.
We kept strong as diamonds in coal
outlasted the words, and fought bold.
Here we are, less lost, less cold.

After months of preying plays on words
torturing to exasperation,
after they tore me into tiny pieces of myself,
we survived the expiration.

And now that I think of it,
we troubled not.

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About Mattie J.

My name is Mattie J. Hamilton, and I am seventeen years old. I live in a cute little house in the country in Southern Indiana, and have lived there my entire life. I self-published two books of poetry a few years ago, but I much prefer writing fiction of poetry, journalism, or any other sort of writing. I'm somewhat new to the blogging world, and I may come off as a bit of an ameteur, but hey, I am an ameteur. Proud of it. After all, I'm just a kid, and I have plenty of time to learn.

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