rumbles

Jana Taoube

I see her looking at me with stillness in her eyes. 
I see her looking at me with wetness and aptitude high. 
I see her looking at me with sadness, appall, and cruelty. 
& I want nothing more than to reach out and strangle her. 

Nothing more than to wrap my fingers around her neck
Nothing more than to squeeze it until her face turns purple and red
Nothing more than to hear her wheeze and wrangle before
& I want nothing more than to cry at her pathetic self

Cry that her skin has been cut
Cry that her innocence has been ruined
Cry that there is but shards of her beauty left
& I want nothing more than to silence the words 

The words that strangle me 
The words that cannot seem to be formed
The words that I cannot find or fix or subdue
& I want nothing more than to understand it all

Understand that it will end. 
Understand that it will all end. 
Understand that it will come to an end. 
& so, I sit and stare back and we both understand
The power lays still until it rumbles and explodes. 

...

Don’t fret they both got up and dusted their pants. They cried, shrieked, and yelled. They laughed, loved, and were loved. Don’t fret they have family and friends and acquaintances who come and pray at their graveyard. They were simply stuck in tunnel vision at one point in time. They kept crying and shrieking and yelling and laughing and loving and eventually they made it and it all really did end. Their stories are with the ones that come to their grave and I am but a mere magical traveler of some kind. I reach out to your heart and try to touch it with my compassion and say: don’t you fret everything that begins must end one day. 

-jt