I am the remnants of a tumultuous society.
I am unaccounted for
and left behind –
a birthmark taken under the knife
and striped from the flesh.
I had a mighty flare for the dramatic
and a haunting ability to appear
right when you least expected it.
My tongue swept acidic threads
that wove together like dollhouse curtains.
I didn’t want you to see
every loathsome action
until that last
s e c o n d
and the world stopped spinning
and you sucked in a deep breath
staring down at the path of my destruction
the auburn hair growing
spilling down the concrete
and seeping into the cracks
to nourish this broken landscape.
I am the remnants of a torn society,
tucked in the waist band
flat against your spine.
I am here, waiting,
patient for my chance
to turn the world into a sea
of red haired slaughter.
© Laura A. Lord, 2015
Thank you to MindLoveMisery for their wordle prompt.