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The VCR Diaries- Act 2, Part 3

The VCR Diaries: A Poetic Documental based on the Novel Erased

Act 2- Cassandra, Part 3
I didn’t bring any blood, sweat, or tears with me.  I just didn’t think it so important, but I can hear the silent fire and the burning fury.  I’m way past half pass, and there’s only a bit left to be said.  Not that it hasn’t been already, but I thought I should put it in my own words.  I’m still standing in the same spot.  I like it here; it’s hot.  And I’m blinded just enough to get through this.  After this, the blue turns to green, and the light cuts to black.

New Laces       

Ten months of the same predicament,
And eyes start to roll.

Thirty years with the same memory,
And the tongue’s gotten old.

Wee hours,
High day,
After noon,
Doesn’t matter…

It’s the same terror.

I washed the sneaker,
I ripped the socks,
I clipped the toenails,
But I tossed the laces.

A breeze against the neck,
A whistle at the top of a tree,
And a light shining in the distance…
The perfect calamity.

I’m at five miles per hour,
He’s at five point two,
I sway,
His way.

He’s spooky in the shadow,
I’m terrified in the light.

The jersey knit absorbs the fury,
The cotton cools the fire,
All the blue is gone,
And the green is left talking with each other.

Then the wind picks me up,
While the acorn holds him down.

The caution tape is up,
The light flashes,
I’m on my way to work.

The talk is behind me,
The path is to find me,
She knows what she heard,
But it’s empty where she sees.

I appreciate her gesture,
But there’s nothing to see,
And she’s beginning to look like a trouble maker,
Wake her.

Wake her quick,
Before the next day break,

Wake her,
In the middle of the night,
Wake her,
And harness her flight.

In the middle of the fight,
Wake her,
Empower her,
Uplift her…

Before all the fuss is gone,
And the onlookers go for coffee.

Wake her,
Take her,
Shake her…

Out of her dreams.

The Trap

I never saw a trap I couldn’t manage.
And there’s never been a trap to manage me.

It’s in the set up.
All the details.

Now I reject the details,
I’ve become the curtail.

A bunch of questions,
Won’t come to the truth,
The truth,
You see,
Is in the question.

And I question my current position.

I question its power,
I question its resolve,
And I question its truth.

It’s the only way back to myself..
And Truth.

Resolve it fits me like a glove.
Power I take like a shower.
And Truth,
It’s resolute.

This is what keeps it all afloat,
Even when the water’s shallow.

And when truth is in question,
And the Trap has the stage,
I take my seat.

I take my seat while the audience waits,
I take my seat while they speculate,
I take my seat right next to Veronica..

It’s no bows,
It’s no grand stand,
It’s no lengthy hands,
I just take my seat.  

To Read the book Erased

All Poems Written by NaTisha Renee Williams 
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.  Written permission must be secured from the author Natisha R. Williams and/or Grace Call Communications, LLC to use or reproduce any part of this Literary Work, except for brief quotation in critical reviews or articles.
The VCR Diaries Copyright 2018 by Natisha Renee Williams, All Right Reserved.