Under her breath she uttered “Life is as beautiful as a forehead kiss” Joy dances like a ballerina on her spellbinding tongue She squeezed tea parties with her doll Delilah with her artistry Quietly adoring her childhood books on the shelf from the tallest to the shortest She painted love with the ocean with her steady hand on her prized canvas Gazing at her innocent imagination Memorized the pattern and pastel colors of her quilt In a whisper she mumbled “Beauty is inside, not in the eye of the beholder” Climbing inside her mellow perception She glided across the beige carpet with an ornament of a smile A sphere filled with crayons, lite bright, easy bake oven, and ballroom dresses Cherishing the extraordinary recollection, Embracing the collage of photographs in her heart Drops fall to the floor as she glances at a hollow room on Wildfire Lane
She slips on theological rhetoric She hides behind the voodoo stuck to her silent tongue Wearing her vixen like dress She acquired accolades and accommodations from the saliva of the burnt orange wolf She spoke the language of love in riddles and teenage rhymes Wearing her Madusa like pearls She mishandled truth and washed down a liter of half bitten lies She threw away fortunes and laughed at others misfortunes Wearing her witchcraft perfume She roared liked the bitch she was and ignored the crowd who carried her on a Persian rug Wearing her battle ax over her shoulder
Instantly my judgements were casted. I sat at a table for three. I sat between a pessimistic dreamer and a carefree non stop smoker. I digested painted ideologies and exhaled nostalgia from my vibrating lungs. I scoffed at the handwritten kindhearted gestures. It was as if I had read them on a greeting card as a child. I tried to be engaging but was caught off guard by the long winded interrogation. Sidewinding questions, sarcastic remarks and complex theories were thrown at me like punches. I took a beating like a boxer.
Inside my head all I could hear was the regurgitating water downed clouds of systems. The formulas, schemes, and strategies plotted by short sighted leaders of this self centered generation.
I nodded my head as the clarity dispersed. I was not treated like an equal. I sat between arrogance and a rattling jaw. I barely touched my grilled California chicken. I only took a few sips of joy. I was tired of the pointing fingers and criticism of my status. I was ridiculed by plastic snakes with their golden ideals in a frame.
Inside my mind all I could do was to assess the situation. I could sense I was a pawn in their chess game. I couldn’t shake off the smirk. I coughed up their sour and misplaced words.
I sneered at their ancient glossy wisdom. I could feel the itchy tickle in my throat. I hacked up a two hour disgusting stomach aching conversation after walking away from the table.