{"id":132144,"date":"2023-09-02T14:51:53","date_gmt":"2023-09-02T18:51:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=132144"},"modified":"2023-09-02T14:51:53","modified_gmt":"2023-09-02T18:51:53","slug":"red-handed","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2023\/09\/red-handed\/","title":{"rendered":"Red handed"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Matted hair covers my palms<br \/>\nIt\u2019s not mine<br \/>\nNot kinky like mine<br \/>\nNot dark like mine<\/p>\n<p>I hadn\u2019t realized how hard I was pulling<br \/>\nWhen I took a blade to his throat<\/p>\n<p>I brush the hair from my hands<br \/>\nAs if that would wash away the remnants of him<br \/>\nHe\u2019s made an indelible mark on my soul<br \/>\nI hate him for it<br \/>\nI hate me for it<\/p>\n<p>Crimson soup pools around his crown<br \/>\nLike those images of white Jesus<br \/>\nNeither of them are what they say they were<br \/>\nWhat they tried to turn me into<\/p>\n<p>Panic claws at my chest<br \/>\nI take a step back, hoping my shoes aren\u2019t drowned in blood<br \/>\nThey are<br \/>\nI liked these shoes<br \/>\nThey\u2019re cheap boots<br \/>\nI thought would last as long as necessary<br \/>\nNow they\u2019re covered in blood<\/p>\n<p>Goddammit!<\/p>\n<p>Goddamn all of this!<\/p>\n<p>He can\u2019t hurt me anymore.<br \/>\nHe can\u2019t hurt anyone anymore.<\/p>\n<p>Music blares from the party we just came from<br \/>\nThe sultry rhythm calls to me<br \/>\nBeckoning me like I\u2019m stuck in its trance<br \/>\nI take off my shoes and think of a way to dispose of them later<br \/>\nFor now, the party is dark and loud<br \/>\nOffering me the cover I need.<br \/>\nThe metallic scent of him<br \/>\nThe burgeoning wafts of death and decay<br \/>\nPermeate my nostrils<\/p>\n<p>This was for the best.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Matted hair covers my palms It\u2019s not mine Not kinky like mine Not dark like mine I hadn\u2019t realized how hard I was pulling When I took a blade to his throat I brush the hair from my hands As if that would wash away&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1373,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11,441],"tags":[5929],"class_list":["post-132144","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem","category-poetry-prompt-responses","tag-2023hour5"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/132144","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1373"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=132144"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/132144\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":132158,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/132144\/revisions\/132158"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=132144"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=132144"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=132144"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}