Tonight's Poet Corner: Happy Anniversary, John
Happy Anniversary, John by Belinda Roddie I try not to resort to cussing to serve as my main form of percussion, but in certain instances, my sailor's brain will not be tamed, and the salt spills from my lips along with hot sea foam, 'cause my dude, I am frothing at the mouth when it comes to remembering an anniversary about you. Five years since I cut you off. Five years since I decided I had had enough. Five years since I knew I was in trouble, but since my conscience was seeing double, I couldn't put my finger on it. But now I can comfortably say what I've wanted to tell you since I separated myself from the miniaturized Hell you built for me: Fuck off, John. Yeah. You heard me. Fuck off, John. Holy shit, that feels so good to say. And it took me forever to let those words spring from my coiled tongue. I had to roll them like marbles, treat them like glass. Delicately, delicately, so as not to break a soul. I know you couldn't always