October 13, 2009
By Anonymous

About this time, I’d have been
Pressed against your wall, my skin
Stretched against my bones, saran
Covering my guilty hands
See-through, pretty plaster mask
Flooding with my laughing tears
Was I there or was I here
Basking in the aftermath?

They cuffed me like a criminal
The key so stern, the lock so cold
If only I was characterized
Cartoon smile, drawn-on eyes
I’d arise, my hands untied
A victor in my episode
But I remained, half-ashamed
The key still stern, the lock still cold

The key did turn, the lock took hold

You threw me in the hospital
The faces pale, the hope so scarce
A jail for petty fiends of fate
Beady gazes burning air
A goldfish in a tank of eels
Smoke exhaling from my gills
My eyes had lost their guppy glow

So am I here or am I there
My head for sale, my freedom sold?

If I were just a storybook
I’d mark through every yellow page
Then stumble over all the lines
And beg for every word to stay

I stain each blank slate with my brain
They fade to black as I grow gray
My eyes that find me, blurred and dark
Never bound, never apart

The author's comments:
December 4, 2008. The day after my ex boyfriend's birthday, yeah, but not the reason for this song. It's just the number that repeated in my head when I wrote it down whimsically, unaware of its significance until it clicked. It had been one year since my magical, rebellious life was shattered in a few panicked seconds...Upon analyzing the piece, the reason for the title becomes clear to a person. A comma interrupts a sentence, thought, or a string of words or breath and makes the brain pause momentarily to reflect on previous information. It is a violent nuisance that means well, like United States law. I'll leave it at that.

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