Treasure Island

Emily Beck


If Mario Were Riding a Flying T-Rex


Your lips flatten as your mouth widens,
It opens to envelope me like a gaping wound.
Your gums flex white around browning teeth,
Barring them at me as you attempt to swallow my entire head.
Attempting to throw at me a empty, broken words.
Words I've heard before
As they float on the easy breeze to my ears,
The things I wanted to hear.
But, unlike me, you do not remember those moments.
Forgotten as easily as you spoke them.
I remember the tiny promises,
Whereas the large are easily over looked,
And hardly ever manifested either.
But your pressing teeth have turned to fangs
I watch them turn from flat to pointy, sharp like razors.
They cut, taring at the flesh of my arms.
You cannot lure me that easily into this trap.
I hop on the back of a flying T-rex,
His head and teeth both, larger than yours...
But he is gentile as a mother goose, and so,
He spares your life, as I, I too must agree,
The fate you were giving me, that's not for anybody.
Not even you.
His giant white wings bat, gusting the trees
With the strength of twelve helicopters
And hoisting his body up, towards the soft clouds,
Higher than the easy breeze, higher than you.

Submitted: Monday, March 25, 2013
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