Little Traumas: A Small Town Odyssey

This was a poem I wrote because I just had the idea of comparing going down a deep hill to growing up and I wanted to look at all the small traumas that make us who we are.

Main Street is laid out before you,

Dipping down further and further

Until you can feel the fires of something wicked

Creeping about, below the crumbling concrete

Your grip on the handles is airy, the yellow line is strolled gracelessly

You drift in and out of the street lights’ gaze

Your veins vibrate throughout your body, slamming into your bones

Drowning out the world, filling your head with drumfire

You pass the convenience store

Where, maybe once long ago, some candy bars found their way into your coat pocket

And he handled you like a rag doll, hankering for a confession

All it took was a flicker of your lashes, which wet so easily and ever so slightly graze your eyelids,

And the man behind the counter, defeated and defenseless, would let you take mercy on him

It tasted sweet

The man still stands his post, his eyes vacant and his skin poking out and drooping at the edges, collecting in a pile underneath his neck

His hands now shake as he opens the register

Where’s the thrill?

It tastes sour

      Next comes the Sunday hot spot

Where maybe you passed under the watchful stone eyes of St. Aloysius

And fell to your knees, hands pressed together and against your skull

And you bode your time

When you heard it was safe to, you sat up

Crossed your heart

And maybe you wondered

What did they think about?

The same place where maybe, while your parents worked the bake sale

He took you out back and his temptation,from a distance, snaked in your ear

His promises sculked through air, noxious in your lungs

But for a moment maybe you felt like this was you

And when he dropped the bud on your shiny white flats

It took root

And you nourished it

And you,

Maybe, you tell yourself, you didn’t want this

Your feet have left the pedals

You don't remember when you lost it

You keep hurtling

You pass the bench,

Where you sat that spring night under the streetlights

In your fancy new clothes, with something dark and potent

Floating in your blood

Because the magic man behind the school told you

It would make tonight easier

That you might make it out in one piece

And maybe on that park bench

His breath suffocated you

Your body dethroned your brain

And he held you,

Perhaps a little too close

The police station

Where her voice was raw and violent, and you knew

The foundation of that house was just a story she kept telling you

Slowly changing with every retelling, until one day there were no heroes

Only people, who didn't know what they were doing

She was scared

So you try not to be

So maybe, just maybe

When you raise your voice

You hear your own

And not hers

You can't stop it now

You’re going faster than they said you would

You push the world off of you and throw your head back, to breathe

If even only for moment before it brings you close once more

And you’re stuck

You get flashes

There’s the house

Where the ghost of a girl, whose body is still warm, lives

And who is off in a world you’ve never known

Doing things, that will never touch you

Now there is just the blue light of a TV screen,

Streaming through a window and into the street,

With a family sitting on a couch you once owned every Friday night

Next a house

Where you left snow tracks out the back door,

So they would all know

And you could have him.

A coffee shop

Where maybe you talked a little louder than you normally do

So he might hear you

Hear the happiness you have

Hear how great you are

...

Hear the longing in your voice

And maybe when he did, you realized

It felt good to know,

you still had him

You feel as if everything has let its grip on you loosen

You brace for whatever comes,

When Main Street levels out

The air races from your lungs and eyelids begin to veil your sight

The tar was coarse and sharp, it grated your leg

And brought out new fresh baby pink skin, dripping with vitality

Ahead of you there are no street lights

No convenience stores

No benches

Just the open road

Your breath is steady

The world is slow

Take your time

When you’re ready,  

Reviews

[dementedreality]

This plays with my mind with it's ambiguity. Some emotions are there, but my mind fills in blank spaces. Where is yourself within this piece?

[LKBillips]

Wow this is super intense. The slide show of images you convey have me reeling. Each event molding you and the environment changing the view on how you perceive your past actions. Really powerful ride I just took. Really interesting read!