Coraline Hart

For centuries, I have been summoned by unsuspecting children playing a game they did not know the consequences to.

A few years back,
I can still remember that convention
in mid-winter. 

There was a booth
showcasing relics from WWII. 
Helmets,
watches,
flags,
medals. 

A man,
a bearded man 

D'here's a storm brewin'
finna comin' up my way
We're right in its track,
ha, 
not the first woman to storm

Sadly,
I can't leave
I ain't got no money

Not to mention,

This wall woven from my hope and faith,
cast around me
so that no evil spirits can come in,
spread unto my bedroom walls, 
pushing out anything unwelcome.
These walls push to my brother's room,
to my parents' room,

for years, I have sat in the back of a closet, sewing a needle through my lips. for years, I have been shut down and tossed away into forgotten oubliettes of shame. for years, I have been defeated in your palm.

the sour taste sizzles on your tongue,
sweetness stings your taste buds
hot summer beams on us when we're young
ice cools the drink so it suds
the sweet and sour brings back splashes
of sunburned, chlorine soaked children