Here I am once again, Sitting in this gloomy and dull room,
Cramped like a jelly bean in a jar, With a million others in it, No money, Means no power, I can only do but, Hear the laughs of the children become, Like an echo fading in the distance, Oh my, what was that? Once again that loud roar startled me, But why? My ears should be used to that petrifying shrill, I cannot imagine that one day, Oh one day, That weapon, That we have all come to know, Will someday change my fate, Here I am once again, Glimpsing out my window, To see young boys, Passing their lives away, Sitting on those gray, Broken down concrete steps, Singing brusquely about their hatred, But they are not to blame, Life changed their benevolent hearts, Here I am once again, Oh how I wish I could have been, An intelligent, Useful, And polite woman, One day I will try, But until then, Here I am once again, Looking at our future, But I still see nothing.
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I suppose that every house is haunted- memories and ghost creep inside their walls. But these are not ghost seeking to play out some epic revenge filled saga, these are simply ghosts of how things used to be. Like indentations on rugs that work as the gravestone for where chairs used to sit. Or the paint peeled back just enough so that the house tells you it wasn’t always this way. See we build our homes out of brick-shaped, compressed memories. We make the creaking stairs the house singing to us. The pencil lines on the wall of childhood heights that are now at your knee remind you of a dead former you.
But her house was particularly haunted. It wasn’t that more life had happened there, it was that it was louder. Her front door always was closed, and the lights were never on anymore. The blinds were drawn tight, and the only thing that would escape from that house were little floods that seeped out of the holes. The roof was falling in on her. But inside she was experiencing everything at once, like all her memories were combined into some nostalgic twisted present. Between flashbacks of days on the porch and hiding under her covers, she could feel the sad and hopelessness blowing in as a draft through the cracks in her walls. She cried anytime she knocked over a glass because she knew how fragile her house of memories was and how at any minute, like a glass, it could shatter into shards that would shred her illusion. She could shatter at any moment. The doctors said it would be soon. That the support beams of her bones were brittle and her wall of skin was cut too deep. When does a body stop becoming ours? When she stopped being able to control it, when she was locked in, when she has to pay rent with her youth and her smile, then her flesh turned into wood. And I cannot say that she is gone, only that she is locked inside and all I want is to knock on her door and say “Can you come out to play?” Sherlock to thee I love,
One with life And nothing above, Thou relieves my strife. Unto thine deductions, You resolve the tempered felony, Surpassing each obstruction, Within your illustrious ability. None other compare To thine intelligence alone, Without thee I despair And am withered to bone. The thrill of the chase With you I embrace. White.
Torture. White Torture. There was nothing anybody would be able to see, not even the tail lights could be seen. This wasn’t good, that much he knew. And if he didn’t know just by the fact that he could not see out of his windshield, he soon learned when the feeling in his leg went followed by his hand. Cars Honking. The wind Yelling. Pushing against the cars’ windows. He should have bought a new car. He knew that he needed one but he figured that it would be cheaper to wait until the end of the year. A new car would have kept his warm in this heat and he wouldn’t be losing feeling in his body. There it goes, the feeling in his face, this can’t be healthy. ‘I really hope this traffic lets up soon’ he found himself thinking, but he knew it wasn't going to happen, so he looked around the car for something to keep his warm. Even though he already had 3 layers of clothes on. Me? You’re talking to me? Look, I’ll tell you whatever you want; just lower the gun, alright? I swear, I’m not armed, see? Look, I’ll empty my pockets to show you. Yeah, just some headphones and a little bit of change for the vending machine and the bus ride home- do you want that too? No, wait I wasn’t trying to be smart or anything, I swear. Just, they have good Cheetos in there right now, that’s all.
What’d you ask? Yes, sir, I work here- graveyard shift for about three years now. Got this job right out of college- graduated with about the most useless degree possible. Don’t you just wish the damn guidance counselors would say it to your face? I mean, they must’ve figured out majoring in the Fine Arts with a minor in Russian Literature wasn’t the way to go, right? But nope, they don’t tell that to you until you’re $50,000 in debt. But, anyway, so I’m fresh out of college- No, sir, I’m sorry for rambling. Look, I’m not sure if that’s a great idea; Mr. Erics- that’s my boss, by the way, he started this gallery with his wife about a century and a half ago- he was saying they added all this new security a few weeks ago, just to get ready to house the Diamond Ballerina! No, no, I know this isn’t my robbery, all I was saying is that if I was you- Ow! Holy shit! Yeah, yeah, I can take you to the vault! Fuck, that hurts, man! Just, give me a moment okay?! I’m a security guard, but that doesn’t mean I like to be punched, dude! Please, just don’t hurt me, okay? I’ve got a wife and kids at home, man. Little daughter, her birthday’s this weekend. She’ll be three, I think. Casey, my wife, is already stressed about Sophie's party, as if the kid’s gonna remember it anyways. Don’t get me wrong, I love Soph half to death, but, Christ, ever since she was born Casey’s been so stressed out all the time! Doesn’t want to do anything anymore! My sister, Margret, she told me that was gonna happen- she's got 4 boys of her own up in Vermont- but I didn’t believe her! Thought she was just jealous I was gonna have a girl! Anyway though, if you kill me now my little girl’s not going to ever see her daddy again! Come on, don't be heartless! See, I'm taking you there, right? I'm doing what you said. Well, here we are, man. I’m afraid I don’t know the combination though, so I’m not totally sure how you’re going to be getting in there, but, well, you guys are the professional thieves here. There she is once again,
Pale and motionless, Staring at me coldly, Stop looking at me! Get away from me! I am afraid now, She looks familiar, Her countenance of sorrow, Penetrated in me, Body begins to shake, To skulk around the room, Her vivid movemets cried for help, I heard her wailings But I just had to touch Did my hand collide with paper? Not skin? As I touched her, I felt it! I felt it! A mixture of smooth and rough, Like touching a piece of cardboard, I cannot leave She’s trapped in me, Her patterns finally make sense, I have to let her out, NOW, FAST, Before it is too late, I am free, All is gone, Shhh, Silence has possessed me, Everything is gone Everything! But ME! Was it just a dream? A dream of me being a Wallpaper? Or was I truly being held down? Once again, I am scared, Alone I stand with nothing, Emptiness, And, White space all around Me, But I am, I am, Free, To be who I used to be, The girl people admired, Funny, Charing and Intelligent, Looking back, What was it that suffocated me? That pressured me to become, A monster, To become a person I did not recognize, Those long and tiresome days, I was committed in being, In my own world of, Depression and stress, I have learned now, Wherever I might be, That my life was a treasure, I never got to enjoy the pleasures of. |
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