Black
The color of endless possibilities
The night sky
Begging for stars
Galaxies
Demanding to be explored
It is the color
Of us
Dark hair and darker eyes
He is the king of contrast
Meant for the queen of elegance
In this kingdom
That does not require light
For black is the color
That absorbs all that shines
Countdown
I wonder what's on the other side, beyond the brink of insanity. If I could just give in to the voices, it would all be okay. I could be like the others.
Breathing is difficult now. My vision goes in and out of focus, and I let it. The spots of blue and yellow that begin to make specks around the wall comfort me. I make a game out of counting my breaths, how many seconds apart they are.
1,2,3,4,5,6,7.
When I was younger, my dad would take me to church. We'd sit in the pews and he would pray to an entity he didn't believe in and I would pray to an entity I didn't even understand.
1,2,3,4,5. 6.
I listened to the pastor. His seminars stuck in my head, and I started believing. Believing God, and believing an afterlife where if I hadn't followed His word, I'd be sent to Hell.
1,2,3,4,5.
Once I asked my dad if Hell was on Earth. I was twelve. I felt a burning throughout my body, an inner suffering that I didn't understand. I already knew the answer. My dad shrugged and brushed a speck of dust off his shirt with a calloused, yet faithful hand.
1,2,3. 4.
The specks. As the specks devour me, their colors absorbing me, I regret not asking my dad if it was possible to be in Heaven and Hell at once. I feel at peace, ready to go. Yet part of me is so tortured.
1. 2. 3.
I'll never get to ask my dad anything again. I'll never get to sit in wooden pews or go out for ice cream after three hours of worship. I'll only feel one way or the other, in one place or the other.
1. 2.
I blink and I blink again. I blink until the motion feels worthless and my eyes stay shut.
1.
I breathe until the motion feels useless, and my body lay still.
I let the specks of blue and yellow take me to church.
Amen.
