Creationism
Don't call me God.
But
I will tell you
About my people
One burned brightly
A short-lived flash
When the pen struck the paper
That died unloved
There was a girl
Smile wider than
the spaces in her two front teeth
Her paper white skin
One day faded
Her best friend
Long dark hair, wild eyes
Beat down her destiny
Uncontrollable
I called her back
The tragic back-story
That never fit the laugh lines
My eraser
Left smudge marks upon his face
To the next one
With shaggy blond hair, sad blue eyes
He gently taught me
The art of letting go
Born a bartender
Her red curls framed her glossed red lips
That were cemented shut
Her story fell through
My fingers
I loved the woman with the hunched back
Gray hair pulled in a tight bun
She spoke of wisdom
Her robotic movements
Could not move my heart
White hair, smooth skin
The beautiful blood red eyes
And magic blood
Offered my hand
A cheap thrill
Nose too big
Eyes too small
Crooked grin, as easy as
Breathing
He traveled with me
Until called away
A new woman, a veteran student
A mess of brown curls, pulled tight into a bun
White skin and red lips
Crooked teeth
She lives for the adventure
I create
Not with my body
But with my words
This poem is about:
Me
My family