By: Tara Clark
They say the grass is greener
on the other side.
I was dying to find out
whether or not they lied.
I had no other choice
but to pack up and go,
saying goodbye wasn’t an option
if I wanted to dodge another blow.
The abuse had gotten worse
and I’d run out of excuses,
stories and makeup useless
in hiding the extensive bruises.
I’d signaled my secret friend Angie
who’s in on the conspiracy,
and was lurking around outside
waiting on a sign from me.
She’d nodded the “all clear”
and I ran for the open car door,
slamming it shut as she smashed
the gas pedal to the floor.
An hour out of town
still shaking like a leaf,
Angie was trying to convince me
to take a breath of relief.
But from behind his truck appeared
like a predator stalking prey,
Angie started driving crazy
and all I could do was pray.
He was trying to run us over
with flashing lights and honking horn
speeding up and ramming her bumper
finally causing us to go airborne.
They say the grass is greener
on the other side.
I have died to find out
That they have not lied.