Mostly Red
By Kimberly Stryker
Red headlights, dimed eyelids persuaded to shut with
Muffled hysteria, agonizing orders to ‘stay with them’.
Can’t fight, must fight, soon to be dead.
Blackouts, shallow breaths becoming less routine
Red, blue, white, but mostly red
Lifted just shy of the heavens, away from the scene
The couple in the corner are
feeling quite guilty.
Never wanted to know the smell of beer and tar.
Up the stairs, to the Left, Surrounded by Yellow
By Kimberly Stryker
In that white
house, with the red door
You’ll find what
I’ve been looking for.
Up the stairs,
to the left,
Surrounded by
yellow.
This visit was overdue
and unplanned;
You wouldn’t
recognize me firsthand.
Won’t be a
while, just wanted to see
The walls that
cased where life used to be,
The name I
carved on the window sill,
And hear the
creaks of steps on that third stair.
Though I
recognize, why should you care?
Forgive me, I’ve
left something behind,
Something that
only I can find.
For it is my
youth, long forgotten and cast
Aside to rust
and die.
Won’t be a
while, I’ll make it fast.
It lingers apart
of that room forevermore,
In that white
house, with the red door
Up the stairs
and to the left,
Surrounded by
yellow.

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