The red door, red truck, red and white soccer ball out in the yard-and these old, red cowgirl boots.
God-have they seen some things. They used to have a sparkle to them, tacky glitter. But now they've faded matte. They're dusty around the brim and have permanent mud stains because I used to dance a lot.
Like-I used to do a lot of wild things. Like-I believes the moon used to drive me to do crazy things. Like- I was this crazy girl, with crazy wavy hair, doing crazy things, with bright red shoes on. And it was the moon's fault, I was that way.
I chose to believe something drove me to stay awake till dawn. Something other than the obvious. I chose to believe that my wildness wasn't just from screaming ghouls and drunk fools. But from the white side of the moon. The blue light shines on the slide connected to the swing set, and it looks worn.
Like-it's carried the backs of my siblings for one too many years. Like-it's been outside in the pouring rain listening to our faded screams from inside the farmhouse. Like-I went down it one too many times in the
hot sun.
When I was young and wild, I felt I could do almost anything I wanted. I didn't have to fear repercussions. I didn't have to fear loud fireworks or slippery mud piles. Licking my hand-I wiped down static on my cat's hair. I did that a lot. I chose to believe something drove me to love when I had no previous experience in the matter.
I had these big blonde waves, with electricity running through them. So I could always tell you when a storm was rolling in. And I always got a little too excited when they did.
I craved the grey-blue lighting that would form at night. And longed for the blue lightning streaks that would light up the sky from the crazy storms rolling in nearby.
I leaned against the red door with a grin on my face-while tornadoes threatened our lives. I smiled, with the comfort of knowing- no the amount of wind could tear down this house more than we already did with our bare hands. The wind lifted up our satin blue couches, but I just laughed. I danced in the old cellar under a grey-blue moon. I had my mind tied to a string-and my hand on my heart. Fingers resting firmly on my chest -I pledged allegiance to this life. To this home. To this heart. To the grey-blue moon.To my red cowgirl boots, and the red truck out on the driveway. I closed my eyes, and I heard screams.
I pledged allegiance to the blue night, and all the children were more afraid of the inside of their homes than the natural disasters outside. I chose to believe in all of the children who were more afraid of their own feelings than the storms rolling in that threatened their very lives.