Sunday, August 28, 2011

Saturday, August 27, 2011

For Now

Turning from everything he knew, he ran. shrinking from touch, from talking. why talk to anyone? he saw the faces he saw every day. familiar. smiling. names. personalities. he felt disconnected. he thought seriously about how he answered the casual "how are you?" Fine. was he fine? did he want others to know? could he trust them? give his mind and heart like he did before? no. look what happened. running. running is always good. blurs. eyes closed. wind. breathing hard. he wasn't running away from them. just her. the memory. lingering like her perfume after a long kiss. Then stronger. The memory of empty eyes. The memory of broken, pale, cold.  No. Run. Let the air brush it out. Broken. Dead. No! His legs running from something he couldn't see. Something chasing him. Right on top of him. Collapsing. Sprinklers buzzing, birds chatting, the cars bloated and disfigured colors in the tears. Gone. No! "how are you?" she's attached to the question. "how are you?" I'm fine! but is this fine? asks the voice. This isn't fine. Look at you. head hung. legs give out. grass poking. poking like a question. what to do? for now? for now the ground is sharp. the sun is piercing. the pavement rocky. for now he would run. That's what he knew to do. numb. alone. that's running. as soon as the pain stops, so would he. but for now? run.

the small umbrella in the rain

like wet leaves falling from a tree far too high for me to see, the raindrops soak every inch of me. the world looks different. i'ts plunged underwater. as if it was painted by an artist who has only seen the world through cracks in a blind. then darkness spins the world further into an unrecognizable state. and i am left. the joy of dancing in the splashing water drips off as the cold sinks deeper than my skin. i look up, trying to find the source. all i am greeted with is tears and more tears. they mingle with mine. but then, a small red umbrella bounces along a further path. the owner is familiar to me, even through the incoming blackness. he calls my name and i struggle to tear myself out of the mud sinking around my ankles. it's you. and you pull me close against your dry coat. i look up. the raindrops bounce cheerfully against the waterproof red. the rain is a surrounding beauty again in the safety of my rescuer.