I wish you could see it

the journals I fill with my words

slowly transforming from new, slick

white pages and clear, definite lines

into worn in and comfotable books

spines that tell tales of coffee spills

top ramen stains

late nights with cups of tea

and an empty stomach

watching the fog rise over a dead valley

writing down whatever comes to me

like trying to soothe a restless child to sleep

I wish you could see it

so you could begin to understand how my mind works

the way that I skip pages

and break my pens

and go through paper like it's candy

its the mania of a person whose found a cure

that only makes her worse

like smoking herbal cigarettes

to salve a nicotine addiction

it may be killing what you meant for it to kill

but its killing you, too

and the cancer of writing

can only spread until it consumes you

and I, the willing victim

drown every day

because I love the high of dying

Am I bleeding the right color?

Is it the right amount?

Want to make sure it’s correct,

Since it’s from all the words you spout

You tell tall tales

And wicked creeping lies

You give sharp looks,

That are chilling but yet confide

You build an ivory tower

So no one can ever reach,

You grip a string of power

Then look down and preach

How can I please you?

So you won’t say my name,

My blood is what I’ll feed you

In hopes that you’ll stay tamed

Last night,

I had a dream.

I was out of this world

...or so it seemed.

The grass was green,

the sky was blue,

and there was no one else;

just me and you.

And we were so free!

We could paint the sky,

we could eat the clouds,

and we could jump and fly!

Then the dream ended,

just as I took your hand,

for it doesn’t exist,

such a land.

“So, do you think that you’re interested in her? As more than a friend that is...”

I close my eyes for just longer than a blink, but I see years pass by. A handshake, a smile, a car ride in the rain. I see a waterfall, a dark bedroom, and her hands crawling up my thighs. I smell her smoky breath, and I feel her fingers in my hair as she pulls my mouth closer. My chest constricts, and I drop my head into my hands.

“Kayla? Do you need a moment?”

“No. No, I don’t need a moment. Thank you, though. Um. No. I don’t like her. Like that. I uh...I think I might love her? I mean. I have Natalie. I am with Natalie. I love Natalie. No. I’m not interested in Jade. She’s a close friend, but I don’t want more from her. It was just casual. Just fun.”

My therapist is not amused. Her single raised eyebrow makes any further comment unnecessary, so I hold her stare until she caves.

“Kayla. I need you to understand that this only works if you are honest with me but also with yourself. And more than that even. If you aren’t being honest, you and Natalie will never work. You can hold onto her for as long as you want. But you won’t be happy, and neither will she. It’s no surprise that you can’t stay asleep at night. You’ve both already had deeply intimate relationships that you tried to keep a secret from one another. Not to mention that you seem scared to admit that you may have been more happy in this secret relationship.”

I don’t respond. My mind is still racing through footage of Jade and what each moment meant to me. I’m thinking of nights when I held her in cars and beds and on strangers’ couches. Bars and parties. I’m thinking of how she felt like a part of me that I had lost. Of how many times I stayed with her when I should have went home and slept in my own bed. Her eyelashes brushing my neck and her hand in mine. Her soft voice whispering into my skin. I’m thinking about her slight frame. Of when I should have been holding another girl in my arms and how much easier it was to just hold onto Jade instead. How easily she could always convince me to go on adventures. How she actually made life an adventure. I’m holding the moments out in front of me to study.

“I want to back up, Kayla. You said you might love Jade? Do you believe that? Why are you holding on to a relationship with Natalie if you love Jade?”

My head is pounding with thoughts. I throw them up like so much bile poisoning my heart and my mind. I can hear the pressure building inside of me more than I can feel it. It sounds like I am underwater. I squeeze my eyes closed and swallow hard. I swallow Jade, and I forget what she felt like. My face feels hot and tense.

“No. I didn’t mean that. I just meant that she was fun. I had a lot of fun with her. I loved my time with her. I don’t love Jade. I love everything that we did.”

And for a second I almost believe myself. So when she picks me up it’s easy for me to look her in the eye before I get in the car.

“What’s up, babe? Get in.”

“I don’t love you. My hands aren’t yours to hold. And my eyes aren’t yours to hold. And you should have never kissed me. I don’t think you’re beautiful or any of that shit I told you. I’m glad you played along, but I think we both know the fun is over.”

“Kayla. What? Where is this coming from? Who said anything about love? Can you just get in the car?”

“Fuck you, Jade.”

I turn and walk home. I fall asleep holding Natalie. I pretend I don’t feel someone else laying beneath my arms. I pretend I can’t hear someone else’s shallow breathing. I pretend this is home. I pretend I’m not scared. And the lie’s so pretty, I don’t even need to open my eyes the next morning.

Autumn sings a song of patience,

Evermore calling out my name.

Immense struggles always follow, but I proceed with determination.

Often I wonder why some leaves stay the same, but-

Understanding when is more important, leaves change- but seasons remain.

The lights flicker.

Empty footsteps on the hardwood floor.

Knocking at the creaking door.

Pitch black darkness.

Bloodcurdling screams.

Who was that?

Oh no!

Me.

#hauntedhouse #25wordstory #Prose #challenge #shortstory

the sun

burns

but you did not

the sky

brightens

but you never did

the sunflower

blossoms

but you did not seem to

the sand

blows away

and so did you

I remember the wind in my hair here.

I remember the ghost of your fingers lightly brushing my waist.

I remember that choke in my throat.

The same one that’s here now.

I remember dark glasses hiding your eyes and the even darker circles from the night before.

I remember you inside.

And out too.

And figure eights.

And smoke.

And nails.

And mirrors covered in white.

And table tops covered in razor blade scratches.

And my insides covered in razor blade scratches.

And your mouth covered in blood, fresh from your nose.

And I remember it all falling apart.

Just like that first nose bleed.

A hemorrhage of feelings.

Falling out of you and into me.

Split up but still over flowing.

Until it broke us both.

Until the night air couldn’t contain us.

Until the floor couldn’t hold us.

I remember you.

And the strain of you against me.

And the breeze dancing on my face.

And the sun dancing across us intertwined.

And the leaves dancing through the parking lot.

And the flurries dancing with our breath in the air.

And us dancing through every season.

Bleeding out into each other.

But mostly I remember you.

And your hands.

And my neck.

And the choke in my throat.

Nothing is more painful than being misunderstood,

"Be a good kid," they say,

I wish I could.

Nothing is more painful than being misunderstood

"Be more social," they say

I'll just pull up my hood.

Nothing is more painful than being misunderstood

"Be helpful," they say.

Yeah, I'm no good.

Nothing is more painful than being misunderstood

"You need to be mature," they say.

I ain't ready for adulthood!

Nothing is more painful than being misunderstood

"Build a fire," they say.

Do you not see the wood?

Nothing is more painful than being misunderstood

"You're not able," they say.

Did you not see what I withstood?

There's nothing more painful than being misunderstood.