Empty Folding Chair
Pain seared certain scenes of my life into perfect imprints in my memory. I was in a high ceiling theatre auditorium, filled with plush red folding chairs. My dad seated on my right whispering in my ear, asking what I thought so far of this college tour. The lights dimmed and the presenter stepped out. My attention instead focused on the girl sitting in front of me. She had her mom sitting on her left side and her dad on her right. They were both looking to their daughter to check in with her.
I looked to my left and only saw an empty folder chair, with the bottom folded up. My mom had looked forward to seeing me go to college. She always went above and beyond for everyone in my family. When my cousin went off to college my mom sent her a care basket every quarter filled with thoughtful goodies. I wanted her arm around me and her hand on mine. The auditorium had a slight draft and the warmth my mom gave off could rid any chill from a room. I wished I still had what the girl in front of me had. I looked to my right and remembered all that I still had with me in this life, and leaned onto my dad’s shoulder.
Parasite In My Ears
Why do you care?:
The sudden revelation entails hate, and rather than absorb it (like it had many others), You have dwelt conversely.
Why do you care?:
The words touch softly across any rigid surface that has yet to be turned brittle. Like stone under the acidic rain- perhaps that’s why it’s lime?
Why do you care?:
In this instance, it is for the reason why you continue your squandering:
To discover some unimaginable purpose.
I propose that the filthy elements that run through your conduits finally expel beyond that
cosmos of yours.
Why do you care?:
Mostly because I am composed of so much, that I have a vast field of time,
perhaps war should fill, or maybe advance me, I think I’d rather care than to not; for it has been revealed that it is the blood
that can never stop
oozing.
I hate to see others lost, since I know their maze.
Why do you care?! :
To care is to live.
To live is to love.
To love is to, perhaps the nonsense that bleeds from my brain
has trickled for
long.
I see you.
Yet you could care to imagine me.
I think it’s for the best.
WHY DO YOU CARE?:
The insatiable standards only peak when I breach the summit!
I care because who else will?!
Fear is a stream, and it continues to flow,
not a pebble could
irritate it.
WHY THE HELL DO YOU CARE?: Every conceivable dimension is a door to another reality,
It is a tree that grows new possibilities, It seems that I can’t help but rebel the beliefs of others.
Why do you care?:
I don’t know anymore.