I ride this roller coaster--
up and down,
twisting and turning,
dangling legs
far from solid ground
and I want to scream
with delight for the freedom
but my heart is in my throat.
The swirling sky below
a breathless reminder
that exhilaration and fear
are so often entangled.
This funhouse swallows me whole--
my feet fight against a swaying floor
painted with dizzying concentric circles,
everything spiraling out of control.
In the infinite mirrors, a thousand reflections--
all I am and all I could have been,
all of my stories and all of my sins.
The only escape through a maze
of garish colors and blaring music
and I wander in different directions
before stumbling out the other side--
high on the ecstasy of finding
and losing myself.
The cotton candy calls to me
in its sugary pink voice,
but it dissolves too quickly
on my eager tongue
the way joy so often does--
leaving me alone
with a ghost of sweetness
and a saccharin headache.
Flashing bright lights hypnotize,
tempt me to play games I can never win
for prizes that cost too much--
no matter my aim,
the targets are always moving.
Soon, this will all be gone,
nothing left but an empty lot--
ticket stubs and candy wrappers
and memories and souls
scattered on the wind.
up and down,
twisting and turning,
dangling legs
far from solid ground
and I want to scream
with delight for the freedom
but my heart is in my throat.
The swirling sky below
a breathless reminder
that exhilaration and fear
are so often entangled.
This funhouse swallows me whole--
my feet fight against a swaying floor
painted with dizzying concentric circles,
everything spiraling out of control.
In the infinite mirrors, a thousand reflections--
all I am and all I could have been,
all of my stories and all of my sins.
The only escape through a maze
of garish colors and blaring music
and I wander in different directions
before stumbling out the other side--
high on the ecstasy of finding
and losing myself.
The cotton candy calls to me
in its sugary pink voice,
but it dissolves too quickly
on my eager tongue
the way joy so often does--
leaving me alone
with a ghost of sweetness
and a saccharin headache.
Flashing bright lights hypnotize,
tempt me to play games I can never win
for prizes that cost too much--
no matter my aim,
the targets are always moving.
Soon, this will all be gone,
nothing left but an empty lot--
ticket stubs and candy wrappers
and memories and souls
scattered on the wind.
Lisa Lerma Weber has a love/hate relationship with roller coasters. Her work has appeared in 3 Moon Magazine, Headline Poetry, Mineral Lit Mag, Silver Birch Press, and others. Follow her on Twitter @LisaLermaWeber.