Fifteen years and still nobody wants me here. Every man who put his mouth to my lips lied. Every word was a distraction to get their hands down my pants. This water is so filthy I'm not sure it's safe to swim in. So murky, you can't see the sandy bottom and you dare not open your eyes to those depths. Still I strip my clothes off in front of a growing crowd and dive in. Each wave slams into me and my worries set to sea.
There was a lake so still it looked like glass. As green as the green eyes I was born with. Little fish darted past you and dragonflies painted the sky with humming wings skimming the water's edge. Just watch out for those fucking horse flies, they bite like a bitch. He told me he loved my green eyes, but it was a lie. Just like every sticky sweet thing that clung to his lips.
That big old Ford barreled by kicking up dust to the blue, blue sky. His laugh as loud as the engine. A chainsaw rattling around in the back. Sawdust in his hair. "Dad," I said, "where does this road go?"
My mother brushed her impossibly long hair out every morning by the wood cookstove that my great grandmother had bartered for two generations earlier. Her hair fell all the way to her waist like a chestnut waterfall. The whole cabin dense with the smell of fresh coffee warming on the fire's edge. That clay mug still in her hands.
Fifteen years and still I dream of grass lands stretching up the pine tree hills. So golden that it looked like flaxen waves in the wind. Purple alfalfa flowers dancing with fat bees, crickets leaping before my torn jeans in the heat. Saskatoon berries ripening under the sun. The willow tree in the edge of the yard swaying to the breeze. Alkali lakes all dried up in the summer time and birch trees rustling their leaves in the canopy.
Fifteen years and this city hates me. Flesh presses against mine everywhere I go and I recoil from it. The dim grey pushes against me. Against my mind. Every voice struggling over the other trying to be heard until there is nothing but a dull roar poisoning the air. I can't be alone. They won't let me. They seek me out. Make me talk to them. Tug at my hems. Smile all lewd teeth down my shirt. I just want to be left alone. Take your fucking hands off me.
Five minutes of silence and clear water will flow over me, my hair floating like ribbons from my head. Grass lands will stretch before me. Sun will play on my cheeks. Great ravens will fill the air and blue jays will steal bits of food from the porch. That big black dog will forever disappear before me as I follow him into that thickening wood never once looking back as the sun slips from my shoulders.
