Blue flash, your name in bold black
I’m drawn back
Back to where what I’ve got doesn’t seem enough
Where butterflies rush to the open skies
Where freedom explodes on their coloured wings
For what seems like eternity lifted on white noise
A contradiction of oblivion and intensity
Paused time unaware of anything
Submersed in focused feelings aware of everything
Aware of the rush of heat steam rolling through my body
Prickly heady sensations of arrogant adrenaline
Taking out my feet from under me and my head from any responsibility
But still I smile
My favourite notification drives me wild

Time passes me by and I realize I'm so much bigger and yet so much smaller than I hoped to be.
I don't watch good films. I don't read enough or write enough. I don't think enough.
I don't play guitar; a couple chords is all I know, I'm afraid that's as far as I'll ever go.
I don't sit and write songs on paper, I type them out and forget about them ten minutes later.
I don't have people I can call friends; at least not anymore.
I've distanced myself from everything and everyone I ever loved.
I don't speak spanish, french or romanian. I've never seen the ocean or been kissed on the lips.
I only know a couple words in italian.
I don't go to parties. I don't have a job or a good credit score.
I don't have pretty handwriting. My mom doesn't like me; she might love me sometimes, but she doesn't like me.
My father doesn't know me,
I'm afraid by now he forgot how to pronounce my name.
I spin in circles and dream of a life of happiness, love and fame.
I dream of picking my own wall paint and moving my furniture around the place.
I dream of saying I own this house and everything inside,
myself included.
I can close my eyes and enjoy some expensive wine,
I earned it.
I dream of a lover who understands that I might be happy but no amount of love could ever ease the pain or heal the hole in my brain.
I let the good thoughts escape,
the bad ones remain.
I dream of someday being able to look at my left hand and not see the purple-hued bruise that my mother left behind when she pushed to the floor that one time; it's not the first time she hits me or steals me from my dignity,
I should be used to it.
I close my eyes and I allow myself to feel the pain.
My body is weak.
I feel her dragging me to the bathroom and yelling at me.
The pain is everywhere,
I'm too dizzy to think.
The neighbors listen to her screams, my cries
But they pretend it's alright.
So the next morning when my math teacher asks me why I missed class
I look down, then he looks down and asks me why my hand is lilac
I tell him I fell, it was late at night and I didn't have my glasses on,
It's alright,
I fell.
I take the test I missed. I hold back tears while reading words that look like greek to me
I fail.
I could have died that night.
I could have died the next day.
I spent the next three years thinking about committing suicide.
She tells me she's sorry, it won't happen again. That was the last time she ever laid her hands on me; out of pity or fear that she might end up committing an inescapable felony.
She tells me she loves me,
I tell myself that love doesn't feel like daggers buried deep into your left hand.
Those broken bones never mend.
I'm almost twenty now,
I was fifteen then.

I traveled to a city where the buildings kissed the clouds and the streets were so loud I couldn't even think
but in the midst of all of the beautiful chaos I still managed to think of you
we weren't even talking at the time and I thought of you
I thought of how you'd admire the city with your excited eyes and squeeze my hand every time something caught your interest
I thought of how we'd walk the streets and parks for hours and just talk about every little thing
I thought of how we'd lie awake at 4am whispering sweet sleepy words
I thought of how I wished you were mine
I was in the middle of such a beautiful city
everything was so new to me
and all I wanted to do
was share it with you
-m.a