Non Fiction

(Me, today, hiding behind the school from insane guidence counselors..)


    The complete hail storm of emotions, she steals her knees to her face to block against the tears that make her face twist into ugly nothingness, that she wants no one to see yet she keeps looking up hopefully everytime the leaves scrape across the concrete nothing. She cries, and her heart she can feel in her chest pulsing a completely disgusting liquid around, like the liquid she had once had to drink to get an x ray had never really left her just claimed the space of her ventricles. Her sobs broke her, the wind whipped at her hair when it scattered the leaves and ever slightly lifted up the bottom rung to her shirt exposing bare bits of waist to the cold. She was afraid. She didn't want to admit it, in words but it was obvious seeing the liquid running in salt down her face. She has goosebumps from the cold but it isn't what's in her mind, messing her up as she cowers and wishes to throw herself into the woods and bound away, into a strangers truck, across the road, or even from the high top of one of the brick buildings.    Rescue Me    She looks at the building, and it sent into more disarray, dropping her head into her knees the sobs violate and wrack her like their fingers will as soon as they send her away to the hospital to be drugged up. They'll probably peel off her clothes, she thinks crying harder and yes she would fight from their strange invading wrinkly press of fingerprints as they claimed to be doing this all for her own good, as they looked over the dead skin stuck inside her, the scars and chided and touched and searched everywhere for another scar. "Kill me," she whispers even if in that moment she doesn't want to die, but that moment will end and in her hands she will hold the iron, the only one she can trust.