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Mar 2016 · 539
Roses.
Tryston Kae Mar 2016
“I could have chosen anybody but I chose you…”

There were many to choose from. You were on the list, however. Your profound interest in whomever you met, be the person mean or not, sparked a sudden interest. You weren’t like the rest. The rest being, the other girls I could have chosen. They had their **** together, but they acted like they didn’t and not having your **** together seemed attractive, so they were in the list. You had your **** together. Why were you there? It were as if we were in a police station. Girls were lined up against the wall and I could see them from the other side of the mirror, they couldn’t see me however. You could, which was strange. Each time I would move or tilt my head you would follow. Your eyes knew where I was and when. You didn’t even react. You just stood there. Calm and aware. All the people next to me looked at me in shock as I pointed to you. “That’s her.” I have never failed to mention this to you.

“Help me get better // you pull me right out of the blue…”

Most people would have left. I wish you would have too. Maybe if you did this would have ended sooner. Your sappy flowers that you never failed to send, lay in the drawer in my new, grim room. I have kept the flowers in the dark, because it was like our love. A love that was in the dark and although the flowers look near dead, they contain everything that other flowers have. I should have placed them on top of the chest of drawers. They should be exposed, bare for everyone to see, not just for me. But no one appreciates dead flowers, the gesture is seen as disrespectful. I like them, though. They understand me. They are experiencing what I have experienced. The outside becomes grim and the inside slowly decays. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here. I was a leap away from drowning in the river. I was a hug away from touching the sky. Thank you for being clingy.

“And daddy don’t like you, but daddy and I never speak…”

He didn’t like you, let’s be honest. You didn’t like him either. He resembled everything you hate and you never failed to express yourself. You were good with your words, if you read this there would be red ink all over the page, maybe that’s why he didn’t like you. You felt the need to correct people. You weren’t perfect. You felt that everyone needed to be perfect even if you weren’t. “The world should be left in the hands of perfect people, that’s why we need to go.” I laughed and I think we were the only two that understood that joke. You hate what he did to my mother and I because you experienced it too. Not with my dad, though. Although he hit her when he was drunk, I was born a coward and couldn’t defend her. That’s why I’m here. I chose this courageous girl and I’m a ****** coward. That’s why I’m here, because opposites attract. That’s why I’m here because I’m a quitter.

“Every night when I wake up // I need you to get back to sleep…”

At night, I would attempt it. I would think about it and reflect. That didn’t seem possible when you were around because you felt the need to protect me. You were as wrecked as I, if not more, yet you needed to make sure I didn’t leave. You needed me to be there because I made you feel sane, even if it were for a few minutes. If you had done as I asked, stayed asleep when I awoke, you would be here today. You would ******* be here. It’s my fault for choosing someone so damaged and aware. You would ******* be here.

“Smells like roses to me // two young lovers at sea // tastes so bitter so sweet // you’re my bang // together we’ll go // bang, bang, bang…”

Of course it smelt like roses. You loved the sappy love it represented. Yes, we were lovers. We were lovers, because I understood you, and you me and I ******* loved you. The sea would become our home. We would cover ourselves in sand to see how long we could last underneath. How long we could ******* breathe. And if the sea wasn’t our oyster, well, we would go bang, bang. Neither of us could jump in front of the gun, because neither of us wanted to be saved.
Feb 2016 · 518
The day after
Tryston Kae Feb 2016
The dim morning sun danced across the white bed sheets
The lamp posts flickered
The cars, enthused, hooted
It could not have been past six in the morning
Drivers, passengers, by standers, they were all part of the pre-Christmas rush
Christmas was a week away.
I smiled at the thought of waking up on Christmas morning
Although I am not one to socialise (you know that)
I was excited to see family members that I would only see next year, this time, again
They would bottle up the year’s stories and once the glasses clink,
The liquid fizzles,
The stories will be offered to people who listen but are rarely focused.
Liquids impact your life
We often take them for granted.
Droughts teach us not to waste water.
Wine (if you’re religious) teaches us to never forget the reason we are here today.
Hangovers, they teach us to put the cup down and socialise with the couples,
Being a third wheel is not safe, but avoiding a hangover is.
Party liquids, are great.
They ease the tension.
They help avoid awkward situations.
In most cases, the night before would be a blur.
This case was different.
As I tugged on the cold sheets,
It brought warmth to my aching body.
My heart rate had decreased and my chest had fallen.
Then, it sped up.
I prayed that I would not be having another anxiety attack,
But the events of the previous night had lashed out.
Anxiety attack for who?
I recalled his blonde-brown hair.
The way he begged for his comb over to not move over.
He had this giggly whim about him.
His face would light up each time his glass was filled,
But it could not have been as bright as mine.
“This is my girlfriend.”
That was my introduction.
That was my title for the night.
I could have been upset.
I was upset but,
Anger was destined for the morning after.
The first string,
Caught me off-guard.
Although I tied it.
It surprised me.
It didn’t happen to surprise you, though.
You never finished that conversation.
The moon light looked brighter and for a few seconds, the lamp posts worked.
Your friend helped you and reminded you that I have baggage that has been deported.
He reminded you that I may be using you to avoid my own emotional distress.
“We know what we’re doing.”
I smiled and agreed when I heard that.
That night, we knew what we were doing.
We were prepared.
Everything was going to be okay.
I am decoding scribbles right now.
Trying to cut the string,
My scissors are missing.
Do you think we knew what we were doing?
Yes, it took a few slurps for me to be your girlfriend,
But was it worth it in the end?
As I type this,
A thought lingers
“Alcohol changes your behaviour,
Not your feelings.”
I will repeat these words every time I enter your neighbourhood.
I know it is absurd that I have grown to develop feelings for you within a week,
But I needed to destroy writer’s block.
You offered a lot more, though.
Just my luck.



-Tryston Kae

— The End —