Beats In Double Time

Beats in Double Time
By Kayla Phillips

I shouldn’t have agreed
to be their guinea pig,
to stand here and face
what I should’ve left behind.

The room was small,
its walls tinted raspberry.
In the corner, heaps of my favorite toys,
my first razor, and a lonely dime.

My heart beating in my head,
Thump, Thump, Thump,
this whole scenario was wrong,
bitter as a watermelon rind.

I watched in horror
as my toys piled one atop the other,
for there was no force to force them
from their spots I had ingrained in my mind.

My self portrait from the second grade
rose from the floor,
and the door to my left was still locked,
as if what was occurring wasn’t a crime.

Something was forming and it was not
the childhood I remembered.
The raspberry paint peeled from the wall
to reveal a rusty grey stained with grime.

Thump, Thump, Thump,
the sum of my past was an ugly beast,
black eyes blinking eerily,
heart beating in sync with mine.

Writer's Statement: Through "Beats in Double Time", I hoped to capture the moment when someone no longer views their past through rose-colored glasses.

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Beats in Double Time
By Kayla Phillips

Nourished in the Heartland. Served across America.

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Beats in Double TimeBy Kayla Phillips

Nourished in the Heartland. Served across America.

E-mail

Beats in Double Time
By Kayla Phillips