The Patient.
"April showers bring May flowers, at least, that's what my doctor used to tell me. Of course, I used past tense, because he's gone now."
"Why is he gone Lily? Who told you he is gone?"
"Oh, I know he is. I killed him last night, with my bare hands."
"And you say this with no shame?"
"No Sir. I'm not crazy, I know what I've done. He would tell me day and night, his stories about great things that strive from dead things. But could he not see I suffered? Could he not see it was not working for me, these pills and powders he fed me? I couldn't take it anymore. I simply couldn't, it was unacceptable."
"So, you killed him? You will not be denying this fact?"
"I did. It was the last thing I wanted do before losing my life to a fight that never begun; jail, death, what's the difference anyway? He was so high and mighty in his expensive leather seat, spouting ignorant phrases by the dozen as if he'd experienced the malady himself: I couldn't let this man walk the earth and torture other souls like me. And that, officer, is why I had to murder my doctor."
On The Other Side
In he
There is a world
His eyes
Spark
Lightning
For the soul
He closes them
As they shut the lid
Beneath the soil
He lies
Under the trees
And magpies
And in the ground
There are insects
Vile creatures
Ready to bite
His tiny fingers
Off
Tonight
In he
There is a world
A world we never got to see
Because he passed
To find it
The other world only offered
To the blind
On the other side
Still bone, still flesh.
He made them believe
In things so pretty and white
And they died for him
One by one
Sacrified
Clean of their sins
Sins that never existed
In the first place
Who was he to judge?
Who was he to love?
He was but a devil like us all
Another brother amongst crowds
A savior is what they called his body
Still flesh
Still bone
Still marrow and black
To the core
A sinner
A liar
An enchanter
A sinner like me
That's what the man was
And always will be
They
Sadness welling in his gaze, he glanced my way: “You deserve better.” Andrew said as I held his frail hand linked to machines they claimed would fix him years ago.
“Don’t say that.” I sobbed, head rested against his shoulder. The scent of strong antiseptics stung my nose; I cried a little more in the small colorless room. “I never wanted anyone but you.”
Six
That when she looks at me in her little black dress I will open my eyes.
That when I hold her hand it will be warm.
That when I speak to her she will respond.
That when I laugh she will laugh along with me.
That when the clock strikes six I will go back in time.
That I didn't leave this world last Winter too soon.
She Falls.
She falls: Into deep blue that should drown her but does not.
Instead: There lies her reflection, a mirror, illuminated by aqua strips all around.
Her hand brushes glass, she cuts her little finger.
A brume of red encircles the young girl’s form.
And she tries to fight it: The flow of the current.
And she pushes her legs, yearning to go up, up, up.
Feet as heavy as lead: She sinks.
In her dream, she is digested by the stomach of a whale, it smells of: Acid, people, decay.
When the girl wakes: She is in a box, in a room, all white, all pure.
In the middle of soaked kitchen tiles a ball bounces, holding all the stars in the universe.
With fascination, she reaches for the spherical object: Yet, she is crying.
It is such a wondrous sight: However, her tears still fall.
Drippity drop onto the floor: But why is she crying?
Why am I crying? She wonders.
She looks to her toes.
An array of colors greet her.
The girl owns no more nails: They have all been replaced by shades of the rainbow. Shards of herself.
This does not frighten her. It is a natural cycle, the cycle of life. She thinks with a voice that is not hers. And then: Where did that voice come from?
She starts running, dragging her leg as if it were a paintbrush with wishes to reconstruct the room with her being, her soul.
It does not sting.
It does not hurt.
It is necessary pain.
The floor rumbles and collapses beneath her frail form.
She wakes again: To screams of loved ones.
To images she never wanted to see again.
Now: The box is black.