Once I Cried
Once I cried the conscious death,
reborn in the orb of humiliation,
mopping the slime off floors,
nausea permeating the base of my spine.
Once I was trapped in a wavering faith,
shifting in a restless sleep
from nightmare to being awake.
My skin was caked in lime, scorched by
the unharvested dream.
Quick the sky cracked as though scissors
sliced right through,
and the spell of suicidal defeat reshaped
into an era that was past and never to be relived.
The house door opened, the sore removed,
the picture frame expanded to encompass
more than I ever knew.
And now with rent unpaid and time
a driving axe, the grass looks gold
as my dignity blazes through the flood
like a beloved ship unchained.
Copyright © 1998 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “The Poet Community”
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