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Elizabeth Rettig Apr 2018
You taught me I was blind
What I thought was wrong
Until someone else came along
“You can see can you not?”
And I said, “No darling. Because that was what I was taught.”
Elizabeth Rettig Apr 2018
It starts small.
It always the first step you take up the stairs.
And the kid sitting on the guide rail, the little girl says it-
¨What am I doing wrong?¨
The winding staircase stares you down saying,
¨C'mon just a little farther¨
And you're young and you're stupid, so you do.
Then it isn't just one kid, it's 20, 30, 50-
And theyŕe all saying different things.
And they're all begging you to turn back.
But you're young and stupid so you keep going
This time she's in middle school
And she’s talking to the air, and every word hurts
She lies like a rug
She self pities, and walks towards highways, and writes goodbyes on notebook paper
And you keep walking
You don't even know what's at the top of the tower- but you keep going anyways.
Suddenly she's older. Smarter. Quieter.
Every word still hurts, but she´ll trust anyone with a smile.
And then she's crying, and venting her frustrations
And the kid is pulling her sleeve and screaming and she is too
The girl is alone again.
She looks in door after door. Some just lead to brick walls.
She opens one and smiles, and disappears inside it.
You keep going.
Now she walks up with a shadow.
Another shadow comes to her side, and holds her hand.
The first shadow turns and says something to the girl.
The girl starts breaking.
Now she’s reaching, crying, desperate, drowning.
The shadow disappears.
You step up to her. Shes holding a bottle, and she’s had enough.
The highway becomes the bottle, and shes a blindfolded pedestrian.
¨We have to keep going.¨
The shadow isn´t just one but several.
¨You have to keep going.¨
Elizabeth Rettig Apr 2018
She holds on tight
A hand that will grasp
She is the princess with the heart made of glass
In of the forest Somewhere no one knows
Is a statue of a girl
In white clothes
A slight breeze will knock her down
And then will fall her porcelain crown
Elizabeth Rettig Mar 2018
When will it be enough for you?
Are you deaf?
Don’t act like you never heard them crying.
Stop covering your eyes.
Look at what’s happening to them.
To me.
To us.
You hold them and cradle them, your precious treasures.
Your sacred amendment.
You keep them in your safe.
“Don’t worry no one can take you away from me.”
And send your children to school
no more.
Elizabeth Rettig Mar 2018
I think I love Death
  or is it the idea of her?
the idea of eternal warmth
       of bright white
nothingness
the idea of being safe
         forever
she gives me her ice cold hand
"please,'
and that's enough for me to jump

— The End —