those Mississippi nights

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The water in shrunken muscles lifted, and the pain overflowed the cavity. Lungs tightened. Tears formed under a mangled up heart, and could no longer remain unheard, slipping down her face and cascading past the bruises and pained hands. Fingers pressed to a chest, nails digging in the soft tissue, yet this pain she did not feel or comprehend. There was just the cold Mississippi river in her veins, no longer blood that could warm her up, barely melted ice that hid under her skin.

You should have stayed.

She crosses her arms and then wraps them around her torso. Tight, really tight, wanting to stop the tired breaths, the drenching sobs. The ending of the last thing that she held dear, of what she loved. Something that was taken away, ripped from her empty arms.

You should have stayed.

Her weakened body rolls into a ball and lays on the bed. Her breathing turning into spasms, this life can’t breathe, it doesn’t want you. Fists hitting a bare mattress until her shoulders start to quiver. This river turns colder, yet doesn’t freeze her mind. She moves to the edge of the bed and slips to the ground, almost lifeless like the last tide after a flood.

Go home child, there is no room for you here. You served your purpose, you must leave.

You should have stayed.

Her thoughts slow down, the wind cooling her face. She looks up and sees the open door. No one had locked them, no one had cared. So the rain in her organs had settled and the rocks between her ribs had tumbled down. Nothing to save her from the storm’s raging forces, a rising current of lost hope. It swallowed her up. And now she waits for the last of tears, listening to the songs that nobody hears. The music still playing inside those four walls, no more harmony, just slow chaos. A painful symphony beating the drums.

You left. You left. You left.

Rain not seen, falling on to the ground. Tapping against her feet.

You left. You left. You left.

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