Running Into The Street Poem by Persephone Tracey

Running into the street.

This is when my life begun.

Back then, memories would surface like day dreams.

He wouldn't kiss me. But he would cover my body with his body. And the words would be spoken.

And I promised him I wouldn't run into the streets again.

But the minutes don't stop.

Each prayer left unanswered.

Sit down quietly. Like they taught us.

And it was as if I knew it wouldn't be ok.

We would forget our names and our cities of origin.

You're going to die.

It's all you know.

The death that syncopates our love.

Pulling a gun out on you.

And he's jumping out into the middle of it.

I sleep. I dream. I make up things I would never say.

Things that can be forgotten with the lighting of a cigarette.

I am being smoked on the lawn.

Like a kiss

And an old empty beer bottle.

It spins inside you.

Blue. Green. Yellow.

It's all very simple.

The multitude.