where boys fear to tread

i tried crying tonight. a single tear at the corner of my eyes. instead dried up lakes and burning grains of sand. red eyes and burnt fingers from scratching bruished shins. flesh caught under the tips of nails. yelling fuck at the top of my lungs and listening to "in the arms of sleep" on repeat. still nothing.

"i'm sure i'll regret this later," i overhear a girl say in the hall, then i hear the same girl moaning hours later in the room of some boy. her yes's broadcasted through paper thin walls. scratching the paint, white with red, making pink splinters.

frustrated that the only dream i can dream are the ones where i'm hurt and stinging to feel till i collapse -- a mass of hives on a white stretcher. i can't feel my neck, my fingers, my toes. i can't feel a damn thing. my only other dreams are miles away.

i can see you clearly looking over me. holding my hand. digging out the bits beneath my fingernails. trying to find secrets. trying to find the way to say hello without sounding too serious or not serious enough. and i just nod my head up and down and i'm in and out and i can't see you for more than a glow. the light reflecting off your tiara. you were always a princess even as a girl.

then i'm moving slowly through crowded hallways. all i can see is the glittering off your crown. you tell me to breath. i joke, "i'm not having a baby" and we cackle down the hallways. i tell them your my partner. my lurve partner, and that's exactly how i say it. and we laugh again, even louder.

"the bloody french," you yell for no reason.

then there are the black walls. a cave of insincerity because i can't tell where i am or who i am. i can't remember. and you aren't there when i wake up. no one is there.

i'm stuck to the bed in a white walled room -- restrained by the moaning - -the effervescence mark of someone else's regrets. 
¶ 3:42 AM |