A poem I wrote
ingited sadness
that punched me from the page.
Wanting to drop each salty memory
into flames
blot out blood-stained verses
and rip the syllables like sin.
I stared at a reflection
of the woman I once was
she looked away
I sighed
then apologized
for not saving her sooner.
I don’t remember
how those stains arrived
on dining room walls
dotting the yellow-shirted man
marring the piano in a bar scene
popping up on my ceiling
a few splatters down the hallway.
I don’t remember
what it was
sauce
grease
blood
rum.
Anger
uncalled for
accusations
lies
tainting this home.
Time to paint
start anew.
I remember the sander
grinding
drilling
succumbing my muscles to its power
wall to wall
sanding away a lifetime
splotches of insanity vanishing
smoothing surfaces
leaving fine dust behind
covering floors
where I walk
with intention
on every granule
sticking to the bottom of my shoes.
I remember
walking outside
a graffiti trail of memory dust
from my front door
to the dumpster
where wrenching stench
welcomes my shoes.