4 Years Of A Mouth That Lied

A Poem by Marie A. Maya

Memory poem for my English class.

I was born a glass doll with a blue pain.
My heart was metal and clean,
no marks to be found.
It didn't know pain yet.

I met a man who barely looked like me.
His hair was as dark as the midnight sky
and his eyes were deep chocolate pools.
He would wrap me up in his suit of armor late at night
while my mother was gone working until her back was aching.
Early afternoons was filled with car rides
to a new house with a family of three.
Nights held promise making,
silent whispers to keep my tongue in my throat,
to not speak a word.
But when he wasn't looking,
I spilled the secrets that left a sour taste in my mouth.

Wind the clock forward three years
to the day his clothes laid on the grass.
Wires touched and my eyes shot open.
I saw a man who tore down the woman who kept him up.
While he made a put together a body for the new house,
I sat in my tiny shell and watched
as he sent her to bleach scented rooms
and bright white walls filled with lost souls.
I watched as he planted love inside her chest
then let weeds grow in place of daisies.
I watched as she cried and he lied for 4 years.
If you stood close enough,
you could feel the heat of hatred boil inside me.
I was young and taught about the disease called love.

Now my face is red from the pain
and I have dents upon dents marking my heart.
I keep out the ones with smooth words
by building a wall of stone around my castle.
You were the first man in my life
and now it seems you'll be the last.