cursed

‘what a nice surprise’ is that what you expect me to say
when you suddenly appear out of the blue at my side today?
quite frankly, i’m none too happy with out little visits where i
sit at a small table and serve imaginary tea until i, too, could fly
how many other little girls have fallen prey to your quaint charm?
funny how your oddity never raises questions, never raises an alarm
but you’re not the only one around that likes to play games and clever tricks
you like to drag me to the card table and lay it all out with a quiet hick
the air heavy with intoxication when no drink has been present for a century
before the rage, a simple misunderstanding gone wrong, unseen by a fierce jury
i am an unsuitable wife who’d bet her life with all the smiling, deceitful jacks
in her hand, that she is a beacon of light, this girl who collapses from the pain in her back
and she, i, yell at you, beg, for it to end as the mental toll is just as great
but you see it differently, with your black pigtails flying about, and i wonder, if it is fate
that has brought such burdens to me, you wicked little child, throwing apples at my face
in the mornings, when i finally let my guard down, and i’ll see that you’re gone without a trace
and you, you stand stalk still on the stairs, specs focused on the morning light through a window
that you will never reach, one that is bright, comfortable and warm through the glow
i’m frightened and fascinated by your presence, and i ponder all the possibilities of why
you are here, and it is strange, that i cannot see you, yet i see your dress and see you cry
and you, too, through the beat of the drums that pounds in my ears, why are you not heard
by anyone else but me? you’re all dressed up in uniform ready to go, ready to be cured
i take it all in, one bit at a time and i realize quite suddenly what i must do to survive
these tasks are tedious and station myself in harm’s way since i can only accept that dead is the new alive
dead is the new black, the act others will put on, even though they do not have the eyes to see
that you’re all leaving me again, which i find to be a bit selfish and unfair, and i grieve
my loss, as you melt through my bedroom walls, never to visit me again, despite what i’ve done
it is a terrible curse i must endure, but right next to me lies the gun