The Girl with the Unbeatable Score (Mad Max Mayfield)

I thought I'd gotten used to the process

of things getting broken— 

broken home, broken promises.

Watching your brother's bones break

while screaming in the background 

is different.

The truth is I’ve been running
long before the moment my world shattered, 
the moment that still threatens 

to steal all my will from me.

I didn’t want anyone to see that.
Why should they?
I rolled past complications
as fast as my skateboard would take me.

I never thought grief would be
the speedbump flinging me into the dark,
where even my friends can’t find me.

I met a girl,
on the verge of forgetting her magic.

I reminded her
no guy gets to define her
choices or her power.

I met a boy
full of imagination and loyalty.

We reminded each other
that choosing love
usually means choosing to be real.

I met a monster
who reminded me I could drown,

choking on contradictions of love and hate
while I torture myself
with every variation of “what if”.

(What if the world hadn't ground you down first?

What if I shouted louder?

What if we were better to each other?

What if I wasn't a screwup?)

I met myself

in the darkness, tying my spirit
to notes and words
strong enough to wrap around my heartbreak.

All I can do now is hope
that it’s enough to remind myself

I’m the girl who stands up to grownups and monsters,
the one with the unbeatable score,
and I can outrun this moment.

Song Choice: What else but that scene from Stranger Things? Warning, if you aren't caught up (and you plan to be at some point) listen to this cover of Running Up That Hill by Rain Paris instead.

Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Friday Writings post at Poets and Storytellers United, TV Time.

Phoenix Girl Re-Lit

I am tired of the taste of ash,
and numbness in my once audacious wings.
Dear stars, give me the strength to burn.

Remind me I’m more than my most recent crash,
how it’s only in the air that my spirit sings.
Singing feels so much better than taste of ash.

I know that again to risk is again to learn
even the most glorious flights have their end.
But, dear stars, lend me your strength to burn.

Though my heart had splintered in that last crash
and know a fall follows every rising, I can’t pretend
there is any comfort in the taste of ash.

Sorrow will always come along, often unearned,
making it vital to revel in every way delight extends.
My dear stars, I can't bear not to burn.

Though joy can vanish in a flash,
I want my fire to return.
I'm so tired of the taste of ash,
Please, stars, give me the strength to burn.

Photo by Nathan Lindahl on Unsplash

Song Choice: Carry On by Fun

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem was created for the Friday Writings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, To Burn.