Bri Lynne

Rookie (Ontario, Canada)

The Danger Zone - Poem by Bri Lynne

In the right corner sits the rebel
Blowing doughnuts with smoke
Slitted red eyes
Searching for a high that doesn't recognize
It's the first sign
That I have made it to the danger zone.

I'm deserted like the rest
It's written across my face
In red permanent marker
And in the mouths of hearts I hate
My eyes widen at the sights
The adult children
All huddled around their medicines
Waiting to feel hollow
I had entered the danger zone
Much too late to slip under the door
The strangers had all seen my face
And strangely, they'd remember me

In the left corner, a lanky boy
With droopy cheeks and bumps under his clothes
From his bones
Ingesting his white powder fix
Each rail getting bigger for the trick
Until he's dry
His eyes empty of color
He's beached inside the danger zone
In the scorching Sun
To rot

On every sofa moshers sit
In mutilated leather
Uncombed hair,
All the same in difference
Co-dependant
Until there's someone to accept them
They're widely known
But privately understood
Smoking cigarettes by the pack
Slumberous days and desolate evenings
They run the danger zone
They set the standard and pretend it doesn't exhist

Lastly, outcasts
Where I make my debut
Craving to be like these banished creations
Needing difference among crowds
But they're jealous of my blonde hair
And my polished fingernails
And my golden glow

I don't quite fit anywhere
Not even standing here alone
I'm too sweet to be a dusty criminal
Too colorful to hide in ebony and chrome
Green is not my color
Too pure to fall for traps
The danger zone gobbled me up
And spit me out


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Poem Edited: Wednesday, January 27, 2010


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