Cherry Dots, T.Spencer

Cherry Dots
By Taryn Spencer

My shoes are decorated
with red dots
I hate them
Today I know I won’t be
Wearing them
The girl next to me
Had similar shoes
on her feet
The same expression
on her face
as me
The same look
every victim
wears
Before death
gobbles them up-
Empty, black as the chalkboard was that morning
In class
Beside letters that read
Mrs. Belinda Cash
And the moments I would color
at my desk--
bringing bears and myself to life
with a brown crayon
Desires deadened
by what should have been my first thought--

To run

So close
To base
Like a player of hide and seek
But I can’t move
My feet stuck to the ground
like Bubble gum in between paper after you’re
Chewed-out for chewing it,
Like vapors during the steamy bath Mom gave me
that morning
Minutes between an hour
In that minute, the bus made a final stop
I heard a BOOM, the girl who sat next to me dropped
And I came face to face with endless blots
Of red dots.