“Scars” Free Verse, New Poetry, 8-4-16
Some nights when I can’t sleep
My mind wanders back to another time
Where the heartache must have happened
To someone else, someone I never knew.
I want to go back sometimes
Maybe to right the wrongs
Or do things differently.
The memories still have power over me.
I hate that I’m still reminded of you
After so many years and wasted tears.
I wish I could take them all back.
It was my youth I allowed stolen.
I gave you myself because I loved you.
I managed to survive the pain of loss,
But then you came back
And almost destroyed what was left of me.
When I let you break my heart again
It was my fault, and yours too.
Do I regret loving you? No.
Do I wish things had ended differently?
Maybe. No. Not really.
I locked away the hurt, pushed it down.
The scars from you are healing,
But still bleed sometimes.
I want to see a shooting star,
Without thinking of our first kiss.
I want back the passion I had then
To share with someone who loves me.
Late at night when I can’t sleep
And words come flowing out of me
I want back that piece of my soul,
The one I gave to you.
I’m a fraud who’s lost part of herself
Along the way. I have to get it back.
I can’t take back my youth
Or the time and tears spent.
I try to hide my scars
But they resurface.
I can’t erase the memories
So I must write over them.
-Brandi Easterling Collins
I Remember Purple Skies- Fiction Workshop 2002
Mattie pushed her newly-dyed purple hair out of her face. Her green eyes filled with tears. She had fun during earlier road trips with her friends Sunny and Jade, but now that her first semester of college was almost over and her heart was broken, Mattie felt like she couldn’t enjoy anything anymore.
“Are you dwelling again, Matilda?” Jade asked, pushing her short black hair behind her ears. “Don’t make me come back there and beat your ass. You know I’ll do it.”
“A little,” Mattie said. “It was the song I guess.”
“Don’t just sit back there and cry, Mattie,” Jade said. “Bitch about it to us. Or scream, whatever works.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Sunny said, looking at Mattie in her car’s rearview mirror.
“I told you I wouldn’t be any fun on this road trip,” Mattie said. “You should have left me at the dorm.”
“You had to come to keep me and Sunny from killing each other,” Jade said.
“Yeah,” Sunny said. She pulled out her ponytail holder, shook out her long blond hair, and threw the holder at Jade. “Hey, that’s not funny!”
Jade and Sunny playfully argued while Mattie stared out the back window. The sky was purple under the haze and clouds.
Continue Reading “I Remember Purple Skies”
I wrote this for an Expanded Imagist Poetry assignment for my Creative Writing class my sophomore year in college. I turned in the pencil drawing for a Drawing Studio class in 2000.
On cold concrete steps
long abandoned like the building behind,
she told him her biggest fear,
which he helped cease, and made her smile.
She wondered how many had fallen in love there,
with the rough, red bricks scraping their backs.
He thought about how many in the past had sex there,
(as they did) with the sharp, rusty guard rails in the way.
He drew lines in the clay to make her think
while they discussed his dreams to travel the world
and her dreams to write stories about it.
He was her future; but she (she feared) was his past.
She sobbed and ruined her favorite shoes one night
to steal two bricks from the building’s rubble,
which cut her hands and burned the blood in her heart
glad he can take there no other.