Around and Around.
Ari was a quiet little girl. She liked to fly. She flew when she walked, and when she talked it was like the summer breeze, but she was in her own world bouncing on cotton clouds.
Her own world was where the fun was. Reality just seemed like a game. Everyone fought, even from a far. It all floats back like cat tails in the breeze. Going around and around. It was just like Ari flew.
Around and around.
“Stay straight”. The bold but honestly helpful words that arouse. Maybe Ari tries to fly straight, but this absurd reality in which she flew won’t let her.
At least not yet.
The Coward.
2 am and he sits alone on the hard wood floor. Using his pipe, everything seems less of an issue, I’m guessing.
The night comes, and I slip into the light from the moon. Issues don’t completely go away until you listen to both, or all sides. Talk.
I don’t talk.
Drinking the ice, it doesn’t make you feel any better. He’ll drink it back. Does it make you feel better? You said before you left you were going cold.
It’ll be good for you, maybe. For me, the hard carpeted floor will be my sitting place. I’m a coward.
She Smiled At Me
He sat there in that same old coffee shop. He wondered to himself why he keeps coming here- it’s not getting him any farther.
A girl approaches him from behind the bar like serving table. He sat opposite with his arms crossed on the table in such a matter as if he was in her mercy. “What shall it be today?” she asked in her fake cheerful voice. “A coffee.”
“Black?” she smiles.
He looks up making eye contact with the woman, “Yes. You know how I need my caffeine.”
The mans eyes still peering into hers as she stands smiling, not a greeting smile but a smile as if she had made a cheeky comeback. Whatever it was, his emotionless face did not move once. She turned away with a giggle and the man looked down.
This woman use to be his. Now, again, she’s somebody else’s. They’re just friends but he knows he’s secretly thinking she’d run back to him. It didn’t really matter to him that much though. He actually doesn’t know what he truly wants. The woman knew this.
“Here you go.” the woman puts the coffee down on the counter in front of him.
“Is it your break yet?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He sat there sipping his coffee looking at this woman in front of him. He started to think about the other woman he could be with. Secretly this man was very self conscious. His anxiety got in the way. He didn’t want to grow up.
“So how’s your coffee?” the woman asks making the man come out of his daydream.
“Oh, sorry..It’s good.”
“Just good??!” the woman laughs.
The man smiles at her. “Ha..I guess.” he says jokingly.
She smiles.
As the conversation went on the man grew tired. The woman all of a sudden had to get back to work. ‘Sipping on this coffee isn’t going to help’ thought the man. So with a swift gulp and a couple more, he finishes his coffee.
The man didn’t move. He wanted to but everything in his head was jumbled. He thought of them all. All of the love he had given and all the days he’s felt he wasted away. He went pale. His heart was racing in some sort of a panic attack.
The main guy behind the counter saw and called for more help as he jumped over the counter. Everyone in the shop watched in terror. No one knew what was happening. Not even him.
“Hold in there buddy” the guy said in his bakers suit. “I think he’s having a heart attack!!” he yells. “Call 911!”
The woman was there holding his hand with a worried look on her face. “Don’t worry,” she exclaimed “Everything will be ok…” She narrowed her eyes as a sly smirk crossed her face. He tries to reach up and touch her cheek like he use to. But not for love.
All he could make out now was the rushing and rumbling of concerned bystanders. Looking up at her still, his vision slowly gets darker as his gasps for air start to slow down. She held the coffee cup that he had drank from in her other hand, still with the same expression, changing it every once and a while when someone came along to talk to her. She watched him suffer. Then again, that’s all she could. Just not with that face.
With his vision just barley holding on, he felt his lungs could no longer do him any good. His heart was close to not beating. ‘Oh well.’
The mans heart stops. The last thing he remembers, was her holding that cup as
she smiles.
I believe I am completely giving up on people now…
I don’t think I’ll be able to fully appreciate anyone except for the one that raised me and that’s not my mother..
Some people need to think.
Why aren’t These Legs Helping Me to Run?
My stomach is sick. It turns and turns. Twists and twists. Not helping with the midnight ‘dreams’ that are in fact not just dreams but nightmares. To others they may just be messed up dreams but to me- the amount of emotional connection between everyone in this nightmare makes it a nightmare.
My legs are trapped under the blankets. I think by this time I know I’m dreaming but I can’t get up. My legs bring me no where. The constant pain and stress these vivid thoughts bring, sends me into a deep depression.
I awake to my name. The bed is soaked. My legs no longer under the blankets.
The rest of my days consist of the same vivid emotions I felt while dreaming- even if I can’t remember the dream exactly. I just know they want to take me away and I don’t want to go. The ones that won’t take me away..are the ones I’m waiting for. Will they take me away? Probably not. Therefore I have to feel trapped on one side as I start to crumble before everyone who’s already taken away and don’t give two damns about whether I’m here or not.
I have everything here, is what they will say. I look deeper though. Since my legs won’t move neither will I.
I’ll always be stuck in this. Trying to get away.
To get away from myself. To get away from my mind.
You make me sick because I adore you so..
—Muse
Bed Sheet 2
Laying back in his bed, he slowly awakens to the pounding of a heartbeat in his head. The alcohol had worn off this morning again. The feeling he’s left with is still pain.
Stumbling because of his head, he makes his way out of bed leaving behind the now old blood stains on the white cover sheet. He had been lying on it, being damp from all the sweat he had given off. Another day..
The ‘pigs’ were up. They were watching the television that he had to move back into his living room after he’d left them in his apartment. They obviously didn’t want the job of keeping his apartment clean, or feeding the now skinny cats that he’d left with them. The place was a mess. Everyone in the place was a mess.
Taking the whiskey bottle, he shakes what looks to be about a glass of the caramel coloured liquid. That’ll do. Then pointing to the biggest 'pig’ he says sternly, Then you’ll be getting some more!! as he shakes the whiskey bottle in the air.
No probs dude..just chill man.
Chill? he thought. How the hell can I chill. How DARE he tell me to chill!!
He gulps down the alcohol. Just drinking more and more. That was his way to get rid of the hang over, but of course, it made him nasty. Although it did benefit when it came to kicking the 'pigs’ out when they stole his money, bashed in his walls, and left faecal matter where they wanted. Beer bottles all over the place. I never thought an apartment could get this bad. The smell was horrid but the maggots and the fruit flies didn’t mind.
Wasting away. There was no where else to go. He saw some girls. He talked to a few. Missed one. Kissed one. Then 'she’ came back. The one.
The alcohol abuse went away. After the terrible aftermath of the overall situation ending up with him in the hospital. It got his mind spluttering. The real pain and the real agony he went through in that hospital bed was enough to tell him he needed to stop…
….2 b cont’d
It’s little things like that- that make me smile and feel happy. :) It’s funny how that one thing makes you forget the rest of what’s making you upset.
Maybe that’s what I need- to get all these mixed up feelings off my chest. Maybe I just need to get away..