The Darkest Side

She always told me that I should breathe the deepest I could at all costs because maybe just maybe I would swallow her hope and she might live a little less, and I cried on the doorstep when she walked away and her face was soo pale- almost the color of the white magnolia's hanging from the neighbors tree- that I thought she was the moon watching me from my windows late at night. Her light painted my body the softest color of white andit took everything I could to move my eyes from the crease where my fingers meet each other and look at your face instead because it was so much more alluring than my sister going blind one night. I shudder and my body feels as if the nerves were seared off because I'm so disgusted with myself for just laying there and listening to her scream for help because she was scared of losing her eyes (and the ladies on the train would have been so beautiful if not for the lingering vision of her face telling him to stop in semi consciousness) and someone shoot me for being an awful person. There were flies and the face of a horse painted on the wall, along with a photo of him and he was soo big and soo gross I felt as if I could cry when I looked at my feet and I was suddenly standing in a pile of shit with nothing to keep my burning shoulders warm. You grabbed my hand I told you that the uranium in the eggs wouldn't allow for such physical contact so you backed away and off of your rocker where I caught you because that's where I am too. If I close my eyes tight enough and let the pulse at the end of my fingertips linger over your collarbone I almost remember what it's like to have feelings again. I lie in bed with my eyes half closed and remember you until something clicks and images of you throwing water in the dogs face resurface and my eyes won't stay shut because there's not a lot I can do and I falter frequently within my half-blood trials.

He reached down and cradled me like a child against his chest when I was too tired to say my name and I felt at home in his chest because he was as big as my house and he smelled like chlorine and summers I've spent smoking behind churches and walking alone on golf-course's in mid-day with no purpose but to find things written in the leaves. I ran so fast once I bruised the inside of my legs with your hips and I didn't know how to stop pushing the bruise because it reminded me you were real and this wasn't all just a really good dream I was going to wake up from with the crushed hopes of a four year old that wanted some dignity this time instead of a Barbie doll with the head torn off.