Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Emma Livry Apr 2014
End
Everyone thought it was the right thing to do,
and I agreed.
It needed to stop.
Our relationship was not healthy
and we both couldn't breathe.
I was holding my breath while tiptoeing around you
and you were holding yours like it was the last bit of air you had.
We were being so fragile with each other
but only when we weren't fighting
or yelling or crying or screaming
or begging each other to just let go.
Please just let go...
But even though it is over,
I still can't breathe.
Emma Livry Apr 2014
Ringing

Pick up... pick up...
Hello?
Go to the hospital.
I'm good. Don't worry about me. I'm good.
Allen, go to the hospital.
I'll get better. Stop nagging me.
You won't get better if you don't go to the hospital and get looked at.
I'm not going. I can't afford that.
You have insurance. They want to help you. I promise.
I don't have money for that. Hospitals are only for rich, white people.
Allen, go to the hospital. You are worrying me! Please just go.
No. I will get better on my own.
You need help, Allen.
No I don't. I'm good.
Allen, you don't even want help, do you? You don't even want to get better at all..
Emma, I'm fine. It will all be okay in time.
That was your point wasn't it? To make it all okay? But for who, Allen? Just okay for you? Because if you leave, I won't be okay. Please get help..
I don't want help and I don't need it anyways. I will be gone soon and everything will be better. You'll move on. Everyone will. No one cares about me anyways.
... You think no one cares about you? Allen, I love you. And you want to leave? Because you think no one cares? I care. I care about you so much. I always see those cuts on your wrists even when you always wear longsleeves because I think you are a little more comfortable around me than everyone else. I see those cuts and think *Why does he do that to himself? Is it my fault? Is there anything I can do to make him realize that he doesn't have to do that? I really try to be there for him, but maybe I am not enough for him to be happy
But I still try. Even though I think that, I try to help. And I don't do that because I pity you. I do that because I love you. I love you, Allen.
... Emma, please stop.
No, Allen. I won't stop. You need to get help. I can't lose you. What about your mom? She needs you. And your little sister? She needs you. Do you want to leave your family?
EMMA STOP! I HAVE TO GO!
NO YOU DON'T ALLEN! YOU DON'T HAVE TO GO!
Emma.. you are the best person I know.
Allen what's happening are you okay?
Yea... Emmmmma It'ss aaall okayyy
Allen, please get help, your words are slurring.
...
Allen can you hear me?
I loooove youu Emmmmaa. My prettyyyy Emmmma.
ALLEN STAY WITH ME! PLEASE DON'T GO!
...
ALLEN
...

*Dial-tone
Emma Livry Feb 2014
I     am  so          emotionally            drained
I do   not       even  know      what to  write.
I cannot figure out how to  express myself.
I                   am                                       numb
And            I               do                 not    care.
Emma Livry Feb 2014
His muscles contract.
Arms extended, one front and one side.
There is so much concentration-
You can tell by the face he always makes:
One eyebrow raised, lips pursed, eyes focused.
He bends his knees,
Opens his front arm to the side,
Relaxes his face,
Barely closes his eyes,
And then returns to the intense gaze.
Then he is spinning and spinning and spinning.
The pirrouette is flawless and he even holds a balance at the end.
His leg that is raised shows his sartorius bulging out in the lights.
Then he extends his leg to the side parallel to the ground
And then kneels for the final pose with his eyes closed.
When he opens them,
All he sees is his reflection in the mirror.
No one is there to congratulate him,
But he gets up and starts it again.
He did 7 turns-
He wanted to do 8.
They should be appreciated more.
Emma Livry Jan 2014
When will we get to dance?
All I want to do is be twirling with you.
Lead me across the room in this waltz.

Would you even want to waltz?
I long for you to ask me to dance.
I close my eyes and wait for you.

Why do I even want to dance with you.
The last thing I should want to do is waltz.
Especially with you because you don't like to dance.

All I want to do is dance with you and waltz across the room in your arms.
Emma Livry Jan 2014
Temptation came in sliding on his knees asking, “Will you dance with me?”

He didn't say “hello”, or “wow it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”. Just a simple question. He stayed on his knees waiting for an answer, but he didn’t get one quickly. After I stumbled on my words for what seemed like forever, I finally managed a yes.

The band just finished playing. The owners turned on a CD for people to waltz to, and the floor was already crowded with smiling couples and stumbling beginners.

“You are going to lead me the whole time, okay?” I asked him, but it was more of a demand. I remembered talking to him about this place and I knew he came here a lot. We had never danced together, but I had always wanted to dance with him.

“Do you even know how to waltz?” he asked.

“I do ballet. Of course I know how to waltz.” I managed to say with more confidence than I knew I had. The memories from last summer were unfurling inside my brain and I thought I was about to explode. I didn’t think I could manage another word but I surprise myself by asking how he was.

“Oh, I’m pretty good. I ship out in June. You can’t believe how much I want to leave this place,” he said. I tried looking into his eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. He was holding his gaze directly on me, but when I tried looking into his eyes, I had to look away. After all this time, I forgot their color. He then said, “Loosen up, darling. You’re so tense.” he flipped our arms around and twirled me quite a bit and I was getting lost, but he is a very good leader. He was holding my hands firmly, yet it was still gentle and we ended up with our hands over our heads. “Bend backwards,” he instructed, so I did. He lowered me down into a dip and I finally looked directly into his eyes. How could I forget that they are exactly the same color as mine?

Our faces were only but three inches apart; about a year ago, we were at a place where those three inches wouldn’t even exist. He lingered there for only a second more before I broke our gaze and he decided to briskly raise me back up and continue the waltz.

“You are really tense; loosen up,” he said again. It made sense, I have a habit of holding my breath when faced with temptation, but he just continued smiling at me.

“Sorry, I’m used to holding myself all the time.”

He just looked around the room and then dipped me again and whispered in my ear, “I’ll hold you.”

I wanted to hit him. Did he forget what happened last summer? Because I did not. I flashed back to where we were. Sitting on the rocks next to the creek that leads into the larger river. He was playing his guitar and singing me the song he wrote for me. It was cliché, but at the time it was a sweet gesture. His voice was always angelic to me. From the first time I heard him sing until the last time, which ended up being this day.

When he finished singing the song, I couldn't find any words to say. I just sat there and then he leaned over and kissed me. This wasn't the first time he kissed me, but it was different from the first time. The first time was at church and was really short. This kiss was, well, not short at all.

He brought me back up to standing and whisked me across the floor. He kept leading me and twirling me and switching our arms around. The waltz still continued and so did our conversation. I looked up at him occasionally and he was still looking at me. Throughout the dance, we drifted closer and closer together. I didn't notice when it was happening, but in this moment I realized that there was almost no space between us.

“You know, I bet my boyfriend’s pretty mad,” I said. I looked over at him. He was sitting on a bench glaring in my general direction, so I turned around abruptly and then my dance partner got a peek at him.

He laughed at the fact that he was glaring at us and then leaned in even closer to tell me something through his smile, “My girlfriend is watching too, but them watching us just makes it more fun.”
Emma Livry Jan 2014
"I was walking and then I fell into a prickly bush."
Darling, I know what you have been up to.
You don't walk near prickly bushes,
You don't even like walking at all.
"No I promise. The leaves scratched me, look."
Then please tell me, my love, why they are all straight lines?
Why are the marks in evenly straight intervals?
And why can I see the beginning of a word under your sleeve?
"IT WAS A BUSH!! YOU NEVER BELIEVE ME!"
Oh, yes.
It was a bush alright.
It was a bush made out of flesh and bone.
With muscles and tendons and ligaments making everything work.
But the leaves, the prickly leaves.
The leaves were made of metal.
This I know as a fact.
A random blade you pulled out of a razor that you broke.
And I know exactly where you "fell" into this "bush".
It is in your bathroom with the shower running to wash the blood right down the drain.
Your parents would never suspect because "Oh, he's far too happy to even think of doing that."
The bush is you, sweetheart.
And you are destroying your beautiful branches.
The sad thing about bushes is that they are also very flammable...
Next page