I blink and the way I perceive life changes each breath and I have a new dream
but with each revelation or milestone achieved, nothing changes.
I was in a car crash 4 days ago but when the airbags hit my face and I screamed as my car filled with smoke, things were still the same when I went home that night.
I’m wondering if i’m as invisible as I feel. I’ve been stuck for a long time
And no matter what I do
good or bad
I still breathe the same way in the morning and cry the same way in the evening

She stands in front of me holding her microphone at my lips, cameras flash around us.
                                                           “Congratulations on your book.”
I wrote a book. I’ve done something with my life and that makes me GOOD. smile for the camera, million dollar grins taste like bile. Thank you, thank you all!
                                                          “What inspired you to write this”
I don’t remember what book she’s talking about, incarnadine, middle of mars, buoyant, the harry potter fanfiction in my google docs.
                                                                       “What are you afraid of?”
Snakes.
                                    “Why won’t you tell us what you’re afraid of?”
SNAKES
                                                                     “What scares you the most?”
The gun shoots into the back of her head, her mouth drips blood onto my dress. The girls are gone, everyone is gone, I hold the dead reporter and scream for help.
I turn her over to see her face, my friend stares back at me and the weight of the gun is heavy in my right hand.

Darkness. Pitch- black- darkness-
The phone rings on my bedside table, i scramble through the empty bags of goldfish and glasses of wine. The crack shoots through the middle of the phone, when i slide to answer the pressure of my finger makes the screen turn blue.
“Hello?”
                                                                                         “What are you-”
I throw the phone against the dresser and when I open my eyes I’m standing on top of the bank of america tower, rain pelts my back stinging me through my clothes. I step off the ledge and plummet-
Underwater in the pool resurfacing for air, my dead friend laughs with her boyfriend, throwing her head back for the last sip of beer. The bullet hole is gone, she’s alive. I didn’t **** her.

Or maybe you did and now you’re dead too.

The gravestone rests in the corner of the brandon graveyard, surrounded by mossy trees and mud there are no flowers here, not a valuable life lost.
                                              Madison Ballou
                                                    AFRAID
I cry on the bench, holding onto the frays of my black cardigan to steady myself between the sorrow. How old was I? How old AM I? Seventeen, I was only seventeen when I died. God sits next to me, spinning tarot cards in his hands.
                                                                                  “What have I done?”
He doesn’t say anything and flips over the card. The tower.
                                                                           “Tell me it’s not too late.”
The train pulls into the station, the station being the graveyard, over my grave. They let a train run over my ******* grave. It’s smoke billows into the atmosphere and the whistle is loud.
I look back to God and he holds nothing. “What am I doing?” I ask, talk to me.
“You were seventeen years old when you died. You were seventeen when you were born, too.”
“What does that mean?”
“Get on the train.”
“Where will it take me?”
“On.”

I’m so ******* hungry right now.
I haven’t eaten since Monday, look at me, look at me. Ravenous, hunger, belly aches of nothingness. I am beautiful! God almighty, BEAUTIFUL! But these ribcages aren’t letting me breathe anymore, size 0 isn’t as glamorous as it seems.
I drink wine to fill the void of food, I eat food to fill the other voids, but i filled those with LSD and now there’s nothing left.

Standing in front of the refrigerator, the reporter comes and stands next to me. “What are you afraid of?”

“Eating.”

                                                           -x-

The phone rings again, vibrating across the room. I crawl on carpet and reach for it, the ringing stops once it’s in my hand. 3 Missed Calls from Brandon. Standing up my room my head spins and the ceiling is still out of reach. The closer I get, the further away it runs. Am I alive? I check my neck for a pulse and it beats with a rapid rhythm. Water, I need water.


The lake is beautiful, clear water, drinking water. Pandora! Heaven! I drink the water and it cools my insides, my heart slows to a regular beat. Then the water turns thick in my throat, the taste of metal making me gag. Blood fills the lake, bodies of the dead floating.
NoNo!
The cameras catch me in front of the lake, I turn towards them with blood still running down my chin. “I-”
“These are all the people who cared, all the people who cried.”
I turn back to the lake and I see the funeral, everyone I love dressed in black, expressionless faces. My mom hides her face in her hands and a part of me is thankful I can’t see it.
“What are you afraid of?”
The choir sings but it sounds like blood.
“Mars!” She yells. “What happened to you?”

Idon’tknowanymore. I don’t know.
I don’t know what happened to me and I’m scared.
I open my eyes to my uncle, molesting me once again.
I remember this vividly.
I open my eyes to being punched
they close again.


My stomach drops, I’m falling. I cannot see where I am falling, everything around me is dark- only a blinding light from above? Have I died again? I jolt on the couch, waking up to my friends house. I cannot recall how I have gotten here, or why it is midnight of the next day.
Friday-sunday. Saturday forgotten.
The computer is bright in the dark room, I can hear girls whispering in the other room, one jumping in the pool. My name comes up on the screen as a user ID, waiting for me to type in my password.
My phone lays beside me in a mess of blankets and pillow sheets, 30 new notifications. Nobody is wondering where I am, so I guess i’m not lost.

My snapchat memories are filled with videos and pictures of my friends, we went to the beach today, we threw a party. Where was I this whole time?
In the pictures but absent.

A text comes through, one from an unknown number
What are you afraid of?
I type back, what do you want from me?
Nobody answers.

I know this feeling lonliness like the back of my hand.
We spent a lot of time together last year..
Collapsing back into bed and watching as the roof sets on fire the smoke enters through my nose and I breathe in foggy air. Inside, I ignite.


She comes to me once again, holding her microphone on the side of a hill looking down at the beach. I do not scream.
                                                                          “What are you afraid of?”
The moon hovers over the sea
“Things getting worse.”

I woke up screaming with no sound, his greasy hands that touched me in my dreams still linger on sensitive skin.
The School parking lot is full of children as clueless as me, the call comes in and my dog is dying. The phone falls into the passenger seat, I pull out to the highway.
As the children of the sun begin to wake, the speed limit increases and the windows stay down. Neil Young yells his poems and I yell my curses, roll punches at whoever’s listening because I don’t know who to blame besides myself.

It’s not just about the dog, mom.
My life only looks good depending on what angle you look at it.
Through the grained mist that makes up this Monday morning the sun shines through and heats up the sand. I let the waves meet my ankles, soaking the ends of my jeans.
Dropping my head, tears slap the shells. Nothing seems to be working and I miss my dog.
But I can’t watch him die.

And just like all things that die around me, I turn away and head to a beach somewhere. To sit in my underwear and bra beneath the shade of a palm tree and shake with sobs.

My nightmare started the second it happened.
It’s been nearly 10 years.
I’ve woken up many times,
but it has never ended.

The back end of daylight shines through the bathroom windows
casting orange shadows over warm water.
Drawing a breath between my lips and the smoke forms in my mouth, tickling my taste buds before it escapes through parted lips out into the the orange where it spins in circles in the light rays.
I’ve been here before, the odd vibration of the same old universe
but this time-
it’s a different feeling. Exhaling into the new day, things are better.
The cigarette carton lays in the trash, razors folden in between paper towels tucked into the corners of the same garbage bag.
I watch them be tossed into the truck and wave to the addiction.
My fingers haven’t touched the back of my throat in weeks,
I’m eating again.

It’s a new day and I live it through the night.

I keep returning to the same place in my life where things remain dull and unmoving.
Sitting on the leather couch and a freebird singing on the radio the roll continues to
burn and I continue to fall into the room where it is quiet.

The sky is the color of fire tonight a flame caught in a mirror the width of a coffin.
He lay beside me and placed a word on the nape of my neck where it melted into
a bead of gas station alcohol.

I place my face against the cool glass of the window the size of your hand so I
can feel once again how it was for you to cradle my cheeks. Beyond the fire sky a
grey dawn lifts the smoke and I ignite.

The world spins slower
and I want
to die more
everyday.