LAYERS OF MEMORY AND ICE - by Chidera Odom

After you grew, you let yourself slip Back to the place where shadows whispered your name, Where the hurtful gaze seared through your soul. Some say you were blinded by love, That was why you endured the verbal slaps, The virtual kicks that bruised more than skin. You never gave as good as you got Perhaps because you never received as good as you gave. In moments like this, when I sit and remember you, Wet anger boils out of me. I want to reprimand you, Shake you free from those chains, But it’s too late to teach you new tricks, Too late to mend what’s already broken. Out of the blues, you grew, in magnificence, as much as in horror, You grew horns as sharp as your newfound resolve, Dished out rewards on those who wronged you. And though I’m proud of the vileness of your crime, A bitter pride it is,For what have we become? At least they deserved every blow you dealt, And if I threw in a punch or two, Nothing feels amiss, nothing feels wrong. It was a time to let live and a time to live, But at what cost to my soul? I remember when fondness was your only language, It was in the words you gave me and, the way you hugged me wholly. Not even the street peddlers or beggars can deny the tune your heart sings with. But now, the tune has changed, The discord now echoes with noisy pain. The stern hand still resounds, The hard smile before the harder kick These days, even your eyes speak of resistance, Though your heart remains true, A thin layer of ice has formed where once was fire. I got so used to your old voice, But the one you use now is Greek, Zulu, and Venda to my ears. That hard stare buckles my knees, Your fangs dig deep when I reach out, I am no stranger to them, but, they only used to care in my memories. I could have forgiven the hurt if you were grey and frail, But there’s nothing aged about "65".When I sat at your knee, listening to your lonely old tales, You should have told me to hold them in place, To keep them safe for a day like this I would have planned for this rainy day. Now, you’re a blank slate, akin to a child, And time was never our ally, We don’t have all day to fill you with beautiful memories. And I’m left here, grasping at the shadows of yesterdays realities, Hoping that somewhere, beneath the ice, The warmth of your old heart still lingers.

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