FIRST FORTRESS

FIRST FORTRESS

A Poem by rachel D
"

for a friend i had, for the friend i have

"

when i was 12
i unfolded my heart, unfolded myself
and let him walk right on in.

 

when we were 12, we made a fortress
it was a fortress FULL
of notes written during class
 shoved through the vents of our lockers
  or passed between the palms of our hands between class
of marathon phone conversations
 sometimes saying nothing at all
  our hushed breath was linking.
   he clicked his tongue to fill the gaps
    and i loved him for it.
     for making even our silence comfortable.

 

when all those girls were swinging knives,
  like girls like to do,
   at each other's backs
    he was shielding mine from stabbings
      again
        i loved him for it.

 

when we stood in hallways,
 hallways much too small to hold what we were building
  he'd clutch my hand.
   our fingers laced so tight
    where i began he finished.
      i squeezed back
       an unspoken way to say i love you for this.

 

for the first time in my little anxiety-ridden life
 i felt safe.
  felt unbreakable.
    like he was so much mine
      like i was so much his.

 

and i will never forget:
 how my heartbeats flooded then deafened my ears
  the first time we kissed.
   in the back hallway behind the gym.
    *your arms wrapped me up
       and into them i sank
     your mouth so warm
      your tongue like liquid silk
        drippping down the back of my throat
          filling all of the holes inside of me.*

 

we were only kids.
 kids capable of saving each other
  from the torment that growing up causes.
   kids capable of loving like most kids cannot when they are 12.
because we were cut,
 cut,
   cut,
     cut,
  cut from the same cloth.

© 2008 rachel D


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Featured Review

it was a fortress FULL
of notes written during class
shoved through the vents of our lockers
or passed between the palms of our hands between class

when we stood in hallways,
hallways much too small to hold what we were building

i love the intimacy in this one, the small moments. and that last part-- cut, cut, cut...as if you're speaking of that 'torment', which, in a way, you are...makes me think of your 'too heavy to hold' piece.





Posted 17 Years Ago


4 of 4 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

it was a fortress FULL
of notes written during class
shoved through the vents of our lockers
or passed between the palms of our hands between class

when we stood in hallways,
hallways much too small to hold what we were building

i love the intimacy in this one, the small moments. and that last part-- cut, cut, cut...as if you're speaking of that 'torment', which, in a way, you are...makes me think of your 'too heavy to hold' piece.





Posted 17 Years Ago


4 of 4 people found this review constructive.

oh... that's a lovely story. just lovely.
oh dear, it's all a,little emotional right now...

Posted 17 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.


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977 Views
32 Reviews
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on February 8, 2008
Last Updated on February 11, 2008

Author

rachel D
rachel D

"every wave is tidal, if you hang around, you're going to get wet", FL



About
I am 28 years old- born and raised in the suburbs of detroit, Mi. i have a serious obsession with music- it runs in my blood. that said, you will always hear a song playing when you read somethin.. more..

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