~*~This Side of the Dirt~*~

This side of the dirt,
alcohol splits purple skin.  
Words drill tender skulls
that become DNA.  

This side of the dirt,
home is where the horror is — 
Rhythmic screams become lullabies.  
Walls remember what the wounded won’t.  

This side of the dirt,  
Memories fade with bruises.  
Forgiveness blooms in a good day.  
Muscle memory elicits laughter.  

This side of the dirt,  
I bury my name  
beneath the porch — 
it can’t echo when they curse it.  

This side of the dirt,  
Roots grow from stupors — 
They hold me still and loyal,  
never safe.  

This side of the dirt,  
I write on skin with blood — 
he learned to hit
beneath the clothes. 

This side of the dirt,  
they speak kindly of the dead.  
Kindness was a language  
he never knew.  

This side of the dirt,  
they eulogize a missed man — 
wish him peace.  
Peace fled every room he entered.  

This side of the dirt,  
I cried over his coffin — 
my soul screamed 
in relief and exhaustion.  

This side of the dirt,  
they plant flowers on his grave — 
I plant silence in my throat. 
It blooms each time he’s called “beloved.”
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Author: Cari R Esta

Hmm. What can I tell you about me? Rather, what do I think you should see? My eyes are green, my skin is fair. I have an abundance of auburn hair. I like to write and I love to think. I adore all animals and the color pink. I have six pets and a husband, too. I'm earning my BA in English at SNHU. I write about whatever comes to mind. And I'll read any book that I can find. I shared quite a bit, but what can I say? Thank you for reading, and have a great day!

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