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Glass doors

December 4, 2014

Got a ticket
for a train ride
I missed, as I sped
past the cemetery
and the battery-operated candles.
Did not pay the one-hundred and sixty two dollars
after thirty days
did not call in sick
found the gym shorts
at the bottom of the hamper
made a u-turn
because only he has the gift
of bringing me out
of the depths of my own hell.
He played me a song, rubbed
my neck, reminded me
of who I was, told me
he was sorry
and let the sunshine back in,
this sweet child of mine.

Then lo and behold
the black ice
met my black mood
collided and crashed
when out of nowhere
a salt truck
saved my life
where it guided me
back to the ticket booth
where I waited for you.
You did not show up
of course, you never do,
such is my life without you.
And all
That I sacrifice, give parts
of my soul every day,
to receive letters
from the lost n found
I try to guide
but their walls are blocked
and the more I give
the more they take.
And something has changed today
it’s in the air around me
in the name of my perfume
in the colour of my eyes
as I walk out glass doors
for the last time.

Christina Strigas

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