Edges

Just one puff. I just needed something to cool me off, make me relax. Reggie after class said it would help me forget what a horrible week I had.

I shifted my eyes between the many white rooms on either side of the hallway. She had overreacted, that trashy stepmother of mine. I just trashed her vanity and broke all of her expensive perfume that she used to lure my father into marrying her.

I was just tweaking, that’s all. It was just one stupid puff, that witch. Is that any reason to ship me off to the state mental institute?

Advertisements

There’s Hope

There are dark clouds.

And where there are dark clouds,

There is rain.

And where there is rain,

There is a storm.

And where there is a storm,

There is thunder.

And where there is thunder,

There is hope.

And where there is too much hope,

there are tornadoes,

And where there are tornadoes,

there is no hope at all.

And where there is sun,

Well…

There is not that much hope there, either.​​

Pour

Drip

Splash

She watched as it slid and fell into the puddle below, glistening with a red hue. It was cold and dark. A small chill crawled down her spine.

Drip

Splash

Silently, the liquid pooled below her. Eyes watching it form, slide, and fall to the puddle below, feeling lightheaded, and tired.

“Molly. It’s time to go to school,” her dad called from the hallway.

“Coming,” she called back. Grabbing her bag, she glanced out the window at the rain and the red blinking street light one more time before exiting her room and heading to the front door.

In the Doorway

He just stood there. At the doorway. Just stood. It might be a bit complex to explain why him standing at a doorway was odd to his behavior. But, it was. He was hesitating. He never hesitated before.

I wanted him to speak. From where I sat, I smiled up at him. I waited for him to speak. His face cast in shadow, I could not see whether he smiled or not. But, if he did… if he did smile… I would not have known.

His shoulders slumped atop his tall stature. His necktie and suit coat sagged, tired of the stiffener that was put into them this morning. His hair, although he had just taken his cap off, was messy. For such short hair as his, it must have been hard to mess it up.

Whatever was on his mind, whatever thought made him hesitate, there in the doorway, made his hair look messy, even though his cap had just been taken off.

I fidgeted under the blankets. The warm blankets that the nice ladies kept in warmers to make us more comfortable. Subconsciously, I reached for my arm, and rubbed the area in which the IV stuck into. It itched. I hated that itching feeling. That feeling was something was just under the skin, and just out of reach.

So close, but never obtainable.

That was how I felt when he stood in the doorway. No, hesitated in the doorway. So close, but never obtainable.

“Dr. Lemu?” I asked. My voice quivered. I was worried. So, I tried a joke. Jokes always broke the awkward silent. I forced a laugh first. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Maybe you should get some fresh air.” That was not even a joke. “And call the ghost busters.” I added. I was never good at jokes.

His head shook, at least I thought he did. It was hard to tell when he stood in the shadows, so far away.

Out of sight and out of arms reach.

“Come on, quit scaring me, Doc.” I laughed again. Hopefully this one did not seem so forced as the last.

He lifted his head and looked at me. I had not even noticed that his head was down. With no light near his features, it was hard to tell.

“I’m sorry.” He hesitated again, like he never did. “It’s terminal.”

Like being dumped, except you left the knife in my back.

What do you want me to do?

Stand there and be like you?

How can I justify to you what I do,

When you’ll just toss me aside, like the rest, too.

This game of tug and war

Is making me go insane.

The times we spend together,

Weren’t the memories supposed to last forever?

You were never a lover,

But a friend that was supposed

To be here when I needed cover.

I know you’ll never stop to read this,

You’ll just pass on through.

I suppose that’s why I write for me,

And not you.

I am a social outcast,

And you’re with the in crowd,

But I thought being an individual

Meant staying unique,

And true.

You’re bipolar, insane.

I can’t grasp the concept of your mood swings.

What did I ever do?

What didn’t I do?

Please tell me

So, that I may forgive you.

You’ll be my best friend again.

Things can’t just go back to the way things were,

But I know that if you just help me mend it,

Maybe I won’t have to cry anymore.

Those endless nights I stay awake,

I could never burden a line with them on your face.

The dreams I had of you telling me you hated me,

Will never pass my lips, you see.

For you don’t understand what I went through,

And I’m not asking you to.

Just stop with this incessant confusion,

And let us be friends again.