Yesterday is Blue

Violet streaks in front have led, thunder in my rear view.

I look ahead: a meal, a bed:  Some place to break into.

As dripping drops from steely grey onto my front windshield

Do streak and slash along their way, I keep my eyelids peeled.

I spot the lovely landmark on the right side of the road.

Of periwinkle pretty drawn against a brick abode.

From conversations in a bar came secrets on a breeze.

While they leave town, I’ll leave my mark, as yellow as I please.

The key.  I looked.  I found the rock, the lock, the door … ajar …

Spooked by the dark I cannot knock.  Some thing here is bizarre.

My fingers on the rusty red, I feel the pulse inside.

Has someone gone?  Has someone bled?  Has somebody just died?

While wiping off my sweaty hands onto my khaki pleats

I slip inside just as I planned, suppressing my heartbeats.

The black, it fills the entryway, along with dust and dank.

And something else … something astray.  I feel my mind go blank.

A ghostly white appearing now and pinning down my eyes.

Familiar but I don’t know how to see through the disguise.

I sense ahead with growing dread a silvered head and more.

Is this the living or the dead?  I’m drawn up to the door.

I see it now, my mother’s grin; all toothy, full of rot.

Maternal, yet not breathing in, the glow has been forgot.

She reaches out to touch, to hold, to hug, to grasp, to keep.

Boney, brittle, and oh so cold.  I blush at horrors deep.

I turn to run, myself to save, away from scream and pain.

Then in a flash, I’m at her grave.  I feel I’ve gone insane.

The casket open, looking down, behold her ashen shade.

Her mouth has been all turned around; a smile has been displayed.

So pale and wan, he’s at her side.  He holds my fingers tight.

He cries now for his mortal bride, forgetting all the fight.

And now I find I’m by her bed while drawing her last breath.

The green and burning in her head, she reeks of sick and death.

Her whispered threats become a blur of tease and taunts tearing.

Boring into me with both her words and hazel staring

Further back, I’m ten, with mouth all full of chrome and spittle.

She throws me up against the wall, starting to belittle.

Her rage she’ll drown by drinking brown, not caring how it stings.

The blows fall down upon my crown; Regina with her rings.

An amber haze.  I start to phase away and out and back.

Back to the house, the haunted maze, the clever, creaking shack.

From room to room, I run and rush around in purple haste.

Polished, tasteful, classy, plush.  But through it all I’m chased.

She’s got me now.  Against a wall.  Her hand holds silver keen

To slice me up, a ragged doll.  I pray my final scene.

When golden hue starts to break through – I see a spectral knight.

She drops me as he runs her through with sword of searing light.

The way I came, the house aflame, red rivers crying foul.

I find the door away from blame.  Behind I hear her howl.

Outside the flakes are falling fast.  The white is cold, yet warm.

On grateful knees, forgiveness asked; a penitence performed.

Now in my car, I note the flashing coming up the road.

I make a dash, away from ash, out of this postal code.

Back on the highway and my cell.  A friend calling me back.

I see those baby blues and smell a smell of sweet lilac.

It’s time to find the narrow track.  It’s time to catch a clue.

A brand new day.  No looking back.  For yesterday is blue.