Monday, March 10, 2014

Poem: "If Only I Had Trusted my Night Vision"

"If Only I Had Trusted my Night Vision"

My bones bounce against
what I assume is a stretcher.
Oxygen is forced into my lungs,
like you forced me off the road.
And your high beams still
drown me in a whirlpool
of white mist. 

What were you thinking,
luring my eyes with your blaze?
Did you rope me in,
thinking I needed illumination?

Well, here’s a newsflash for you–
I have night vision.
I don’t give a fuck what people say
about my underdeveloped rods.
Don’t prescribe me some
expense I don’t need.

I’m easy to coerce
because I’m young.
Wearing glasses makes me think
I need a new prescription.
You compelled me to believe my
night vision was off. 
But you threw it off.
You flashed that high-beam flare.
You drilled it into my iris,
suffocated my visual cortex
until it couldn’t re-paste sensations
and make sense of my initial

You trapped me in your ambush.
You coiled that light beam around me
and wrung out my soul.
You were never strong enough
to bind me to your radiance,
but you twisted my body,
choked my equilibrium,
brainwashed me to think
I had escaped.
But I remained in your caress.
And for a moment, I felt safe.
I trusted your persuasion
to lead me someplace better.
But you’ve seduced me
for your personal pleasure.
I’m just another firefly
tangled in your web.
You impelled me to follow,
so you could swallow my blood.

The car toppled over.
Voices circled around me.
Again, I’m dragged away from
my direction. 

I should use my last breaths to
tell people I love them,
but my lungs are consumed with a desire
to knock out your headlights
and flood your occipital lobe with my own luster.
I want to strangle you,
squeeze out your blood for myself.

And don’t give me that shit that
you wanted to help.  When did you learn that
light alone doesn’t help you see?  Don’t you remember
turning lamps off to watch  
the stars?   Didn’t your driving instructor tell you
to flick off your high beams?

But so many try to lead with high beams;
I doubt any of us were taught.
I’m nowhere near your car,
or my direction,
but all I see is white mist.
Dead or alive, I’m locked in
your undying light.

(Fall 2009)

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