I stare up at the ceiling for two hours.
Just staring.
Watch the summer bugs crawl over it
Like spots dancing before my eyes.
It is now that I realize it's time to go.
I'm not sure where, and when I asked,
My brain had no suitable answer.
In fact, it provided no answer at all.
(Just clearing that up.)
Anyway, the distant-yet-unfailingly-irritating hum of a wasp attempting to kiss a lightbulb in the chandelier rings out from the kitchen as I tiptoe
To my room
For some pants.
I slip on said pants,
Glance into my mother's room,
Then make my way to the front door.
It stands strong; a barrier between the unspeakable horrors and beauties of the outside world.
I slide the lock sideways.
Grab my keys.
Shut the door behind me slower, quieter, more slowly than I've ever before.
My car.
It gleams in the moonlight
(Or lack thereof)
That's besides the point.
I imagined a gleam,
It counts.
Envisioning that strange neighbor jumping out of the holly tree to kidnap me,
I move quickly.
Unlocked the door
Slide inside,
Start the car, praying she'd think it was
Someone else. I pull out and drive away.
Quickly.
Lingering would have woken her up.
I love her.
But I don't know, I need to go.
I'm not leaving,
Well, I mean, not LEAVING-leaving,
I just...
I don't know.
I know you're not supposed to,
But I glance at my phone
As I brake for a pointless stoplight
At an empty intersection.
Eh, could be worse.
My arms are cold.
He hasn't texted.
Is the window down?
What is he doing?
I turn off the air conditioning.
The purple yarn display of summer-camp-induced-knot work tickles my ankle;
I twitch, envisioning a cartoon-ish spider
Sinking its fangs into my flesh.
Gross.
I return to my worrying.
I pray for him.
I know you're up there.
Make sure he's okay for me, okay?
Wait, I said okay twice.
Well, you don't mind, do you?
Say hi to your son for me,
And bless my parents.
Oh, and help my mom sleep well tonight. Not just because I snuck out, I've heard her lately,
Up and about
Before your birds and sun are even turning off their alarm clocks,
Wishing they could chuck them through that
Nice little layer of atmosphere
Our earth has down here.
Oops, I digressed again.
Anyway, I love you.
I ask all of this in your name.
Amen.
My car isn't moving.
Is that my school?
Why am I here?
The windows are dark.
My mind plays everything having to do with those double doors backwards.
I see myself walking back,
Away from the diploma being handed to me,
Back through reverse hallways
And my parents' divorce
Until I'm fourteen
and Trembling under
My backpack straps.
The sun reflecting from the windows
Burns my eyes.
I look away, tears burning them as well.
I look up again,
The windows are dark once more.
I'm eighteen.
I'm alone.
Wow, everything has changed.
Has it?
Have I changed?
Yeah, I think so.
I brush my hair back.
Ow, why does that hurt?
Did I hit my head?
Huh.
Remember that one boy,
The six-month relationship I murdered
A while back?
I ask myself.
Oh, I could never forget.
He hated me.
Probably still does.
But as I think back,
Maybe he always secretly did?
I realize the radio is on.
This song
SUCKS.
I feel my blood pressure rising
As it continues repetitively,
Trying to convince me
That it is worth
More than a grimace and a quick boot from the car
By way of a flick to the radio buttons.
I don't give it the time of day.
My thoughts travel back to disaster-ex.
Man, I feel bad.
Why?
He pointed out my flaws
Pulled my hair as we kissed
Was so rough
Poked my nose to the point where it wasn't cute and I wanted to punch his.
Didn't understand my jokes
Slapped my friend in the face
Was easily offended
And a million other things.
Yet, I loved him.
Ooh, this is a much better song.
I close my eyes,
Almost able to create that gleam in the
Imaginary version of him
Behind my eyelids.
"I'm sorry," he says, "I wish we were friends."
He smiles, then reaches out
To embrace me
Then grabs my hair,
Giggling
At the way my head jerks back
As he pulls hard on my hair.
I think of the new boy as the old
Walks out of my life
Maybe. I'll probably see him at a
burger joint.
The new one
Walks up to me
And I hug him.
"You're safe," I say
And squeeze in tighter,
Imagining myself as a button on his jacket,
(Don't ask why, love is weird.
Or...whatever.
Is this love?
Well, crap. I don't know.)
I look back at that old building.
"I love you, but I won't ever call you again, so please don't ask." I semi-whisper,
Hoping the wind
Will carry
My
Message
To the school.
Wow,
things have changed,
And that isn't okay right now,
But, I think to myself,
I think...I think it will be.
-MS
