five reasons I lock the doors
1, This town will suck the life from you. The outside has a
way of getting in. It smells of blood and dirt and decay
after the rain. I sit inside and close my eyes, imagining the
bright lights of faraway places where I havenít let you kick
me into the colour of small town pavement. This is why I lock
2, I canít remember the street names but I know the earth
better than my own skin. Whenever I turn around youíre still
there, handing me make up for my birthday over caramel lattes
in the coffee shop I no longer call mine, or getting drunk at
9 in the morning in my ground floor apartment, playing
Yahtzee . And your old street still stands like a mountain
overlooking the bottle shop, and I canít pass by it without
remembering the way I let you poison every part of me.
3, I remember bleeding arms and jagged knives and the way you
screamed me into oblivion, your fist connecting with the wall
beside my head, when we both know youíd rather have been
punching my face instead. The small things had a way of
growing beasts in their veins until you exploded. I breathed
in 8 am whiskey and a joint, wearing long sleeves in summer
to cover up the scars your voice inflicted.
4, Death followed me around in your wake. Road kill I tripped
over running from the echo of your rage. I wanted to walk
into the middle of nowhere that day, lie down in an empty
field and never get up, but the sun beat me back into your
apologies, my skin raw and red and waiting for the cracks in
your amour to slip and leave me with more bruises than I left
5, No one ever told me love isn't created equal, and I watched
the way you burned your world to the ground, and me with it,
until betrayal became the only way out. The cracks in the
pavements became abysses I skirted around, afraid the devil
in you would suck me in. Enemies appeared in the faces of
strangers on street corners, ringtones and knocks at the door
leaving me cowering against refuge walls, praying it wasnít
you, or the fist of someone youíd paid off to get to me.
Three years later Iím still waiting, because the outside has
a way of getting in, and bringing you with it.
This is why I lock the doors.
© Indie Adams 2015