M I S S O U R I POEM - Katie Crow, ‘14
A small town where my blood bleeds. I’ve shed every tear, every cry, every shout here. And I’m still on my knees. Waiting. Waiting for what? That’s a good question. It’s also my quest. I boarded that plane with an intention of missing “home”, but only found myself loving to roam. I saw sights I never want to un-see; people’s faces and costumes, experiences that have set me free. I never thought I would want to leave, but my now my heart has a burning desire to get out of this place, and fly up higher. These chains that “home” holds on me, are shackles on my soul; and I know you won’t believe me when I tell you, but it’s true, everything I say. She’s a monster and her abuse never goes away, only I can. She won’t get better, she will never proceed. So I’ve completely stopped hoping. “I always get sad whenever I return home from a trip.” I didn’t experience sadness, not even the slightest tear down my cheek. But a tear in my brain ripped me down to my toes, as I walked up that driveway I just knew I was going to regret coming home, to this sweet little town called Misery. WINDMOOR LITERARY MAGAZINE • 37