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 May 2012 Dylan Rodrigue
Pen Lux
woke up back to back with another piece of myself and
tried to absorb dreams through his sleeping.
these attempts proved how useless a lot of what led to this moment were.
I’m clean, and in the dregs of my suffering heart,
playing my strings, smacking my keys, snapping with rings
of bruises. grease stains on my skin.
he was good *** in the moonlight
but he didn’t bring me the pleasure I so often seek.
“If I can’t find love with you, I’ll find it somewhere else.”
he’s a tangled leg, a darkened face
a mirrored mask.
I see him in the colors he avoids
in his search for solitude.
now it’s my turn.
and I’m going to bend.
To be thought of as perfect...

Would it be a confidence boost or
Too much pressure?

Would you use it to your advantage or
Try to be what they expect?

Would it tear you apart or
Build you up?

What would the perfect person look like?**

I knew it was a bad idea,
I knew I shouldn’t have gone,
but there I was,
in a sea of people, strangers;
rivers of red cups filled with questionability
and a smell as strong as gasoline
radiating from everyone’s breath.
Generic high school drinking party,
Generic mistakes to be made.

Then, a face,
older than the rest.
He gave me a red cup.
I accepted, I consumed,
and then I was consumed.
The people wearing different colors –
blurry red, blue, black –
they disappeared.

Hours of pitch black darkness,
waking up a mess,
not knowing what hit me,
not knowing who hit me.

All that was left were the reminders,
black and blue on thighs and neck,
blood, and blood not sent from the moon.

Now, the aftermath,
but nothing adds up;
1 + 1 does not equal 2 anymore.
Everything equals what happened,
everything equals red streaks against skin,
the blue blanket I woke up in.

But that's the point of it all, isn't it?
Life may sucker-punch you in the heart,
make you bleed,
but the world will never run out of band-aids,
always someone will be there.

And I will be all right.
"The only thing
I remember clearly
Is taking a
With you
In the kitchen.
Everything after that
Is a total and complete

I mumbled the morning
Our night together
In your basement

Truth be told
I remembered it all then
And still remember it
Years later

I sat on the edge of your bed
Peering into your eyes
As you held your old acoustic
And hummed melodies
To me
In a way you never had

You breezed past all of our
Favorite tunes
Sometimes even daring
To sing a few words
Along the way
"Well maybe I,
Just set aside,
The fact that you were,
Broken hearted..."

And at the time
I thought you were
But I think it was just
The *****
Thinking for me

And when I laid down
Because the spins had
Kicked in
You put your guitar
And asked why I had
Shut my eyes
So early

The night was still
And I was still
And the ceiling still

I tried to stay awake
And talk to you
About whatever you were
Ranting about
You said it was important
But it was so hard to

My ears eventually
Tuned into your
And before I realized it
You were approaching me
About things that
I really didn't
Want to talk about

You went on
And on
About "us"
And what we meant to
Each other
And how we were clearly
Attracted to
One another

And maybe even
In love

You spoke so seriously
On our relationship
As a whole
Friends or otherwise

And all that I could do
In my state of
Was giggle

And before I knew it
Your hands were touching
Parts of me that
I wasn't exactly
Comfortable with

And I wasn't sure if
I was allowed to feel
Or not

But I started screaming
At the top of my lungs
And I
Rejected you
Over and over again
And you stopped

Thank God
You stopped

The worst part
Was the look on your face
When you realized
We would never really be
Together again

The worst part
Was the way you gazed down
When I realized
I just completely broke you
In half

The worst part
Was the way you stayed
With me
That night even though
I shouted "No!"
Twenty-seven times.

You sat at the edge of the bed
Staring at me
As I pretended to sleep
And ignore
What had just occurred
Minutes before

"When will we ever
Figure this out?"
You finally asked

My eyes snapped open
And I whispered to the
Ocean depths of your
Deep blue walls

© September 2010 Sarah Lynn

— The End —