the day I hold dear
I mark a year in the sand pit of my mind. A year since that day, that day I hold so dear to my heart.
The girl I was then, fluttering around like a fairy in the second floor of my townhouse rental. Plastic curlers and silver pins tumbled to the the soft rug that carpeted my bedroom.
The steady tick of a clock echoed off cream coloured walls.
I had painted abstract flowers on the wall: Green, Blue, and Yellow.
I dusted glitter on my eyes that day and pulled a short green dress from my closet.
It was a rare day, a rare moment that I felt beautiful. I was a tiny lovely creature of the Lord. But I had much to learn.
My finger and toenails were painted a glossy pink and I had spiral bone earring in my ears.
My curls fell in ringlets, and I pulled my finger through them thoughtfully.
But then the phone rang
and the clock stopped ticking
The painted flowers on the wall bent over dead.
And I sat my tiny fairy frame on an unmade bed and let my tears wash away the glitter that rimmed my blue eyes.
he whispered in my ear, all the wrong words
and a puddle grew on the floor
I swallowed my tongue and eventually hung up the phone.
The clock started to tick, much faster this time, making up for the pause.
I flung on my schoolbag and tried to be strong.
I set my feelings on a shelf
But they tumbled down and hit me on the head.
I ran home
to a mothers warm hug and a sisters sympathetic smile.
I screamed and cried to every song that fizzed out an outdated radio on the drive home.
I hated myself for letting tears fall
for loosing my words
for being crushed like an aluminum can.
Peering back on that day, I don’t hate that girl for dripping glittery tears.
I see that they helped. After that day she let go of something.
She let her little butterfly wings get wet and ruined that day. They lay out flat all winter, trying to dry.
And now they are stronger than ever.
I hold that day very dear.
linking with emily: