This poems dives into the history and mind of someone I know. I saw things that made me wonder about her past. I only thought, “There are so many dots, and they all make some kind of picture. Where did all these dots come from? What are they made from?” This poem is about my journey into her past. I thank her for this.
“Connecting All The Dots”
Little girl swimming in a pool all alone,
“Where’s thy father?”
Little girl friend in hand flip the pages of that manga magazine,
Oh what visions of escstasy await the both of you…?
A tumultuous vision of plates flying, voices clashing, and eery silence from thee.
A dirty man’s hands,
Piercing screams,
A moment of safety.
Touch another girl’s skirt,
The other school children forever make it hurt.
All the while 2+2=a knock on the head – “You’re stupid!”
Connect the dots my friends and create a scar.
Connect the dots my friends and see what I see.
“Finally, he’s gone.” says the author,
“Why did he return?” says the soul.
A path in life,
A trail of tests,
A trial of tears.
Older, wiser, a soulmate found from across the sea.
Hanging on a broken cross he promises no purity,
Only reality.
They connect the dots my friends and retrace a sore.
They connect the dots my friends if only to see back so far.
The map is there for all to see except for the most important part,
That is the end of the dotted path which this little girl with make with me.
