The First Of The First Of Every - Poem by Nadia Figueroa
We sit in a meadow, looking up at the sun until we’re looking at stars. Laying in a fairytale. Every inhale is lavender and every exhale is silk.
As her head laid on my lap, I stroked her hair gently and it was my way of telling her how beautiful the moment was and of the perfection I found in it. Her stillness told me that she loved it too.
I stroked her hair lovingly. I stroked it caressingly until I realized my hand was red and wet. I cleaned it with my shirt and tried to forget. “Shh, ” I whispered to her and held her closer.
Then after a moment, it came back for me. How did it find me? It slithered out from her gaping jaw, onto her shoulder and then onto my arm. It was biting me! I threw her from my lap and her body flailed into the grass, landing face down with limbs sprawled. In a panic, I rolled in the grass and dirt, squirming to get the monster away from me.
Fighting it would never work, so I ran back to her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! ” I cried. She was quiet but I knew she forgave me. I kissed the purple parts of her face and shoulder.
On her ankle, more were peeking through. She loved me and I knew she understood. I couldn’t leave her now when she needed me.
Right. I was the right one. That boy who thought he loved her and thought they were meant to be, he was wrong. I took her from him. I saved her soul and that’s why she loved me. I will always protect her from him. Love is morbid and violent and harsh. I would be any and all of that for her because I needed to.
Message on her grave appeared. Not on stone but in a note: a note written to a stone but to be read by no one. A note of passion whose words were choked out of a noose.
Every time I read it, I growl in frustration and regret. The message was three words I could never accept. They meant the end to my destiny. He outsmarted me. He stole her! Those words were a dagger in between ribs. I would not dare speak of them but if you look closely, you’ll find it.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about The First Of The First Of Every by Nadia Figueroa
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe