Goodbye, Graduate

Black drapes, square caps, let’s graduate.

Four years gone, gained, hood me.

My parents are not here yet.

Pray, people say.

My mouth chews and spits God’s faithfulness

To redeem all things—deceit

Under the pasty palate of my face,

brittle porcelain Krazy glued into place.

 

I plead, God help me;

I speak, God bless you.

 

This is the end;

I see the start:

College drop-off day.

You didn’t even hug me.

I waved at the back of your heads, quiet,

your clawing words swallowed by the elevator,

slurping up your fight.

You never said I love you back.

I locked my new door,

Thanked God you had left me behind,

Cried.

 

The prayer is over.

I’ve stepped aside.

Someone else is up to speak.

Lord, when will they finally get here?

It’s not that I don’t know how to wait.

What’s a few hours more to a few years late?

 

 

2 thoughts on “Goodbye, Graduate

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s