More Like A Relapse
Nevermore
The crow said not to look, but curiosity is a terrible, gnawing thing, is it not? When pupils behold the picture, few things can rip them away from such a sight. And so much happens in such a little time. Electrodes fire away in the intellectual lump of fat atop our necks. The heart quickens, the senses heighten. Adrenaline pours out of the glands, preparing for fight or flight. But there is no fight. And there is no flight. Just you.
Just you.
Crumpled on the floor, eyes wide and lips parted. Hand outstretched; I wonder, What had you been reaching for? Frizzy hair somehow neatly flowed from your heavy head, touching the floor. Gracing the wooden boards with your strands, as if thanking them for being your only support in life. You lonely, heartless beast. And your eyes, pale and vacant, staring blankly into the wall, almost begging for some sort of answer that would never be received. And your stench. You would have never let yourself smell so horribly. You were too self-conscious for that; nothing had ever been good enough for you, for society. Not even your own handwriting. You were so preoccupied with pleasing everyone else, putting yourself last.
And so maybe this was how it was suppose to be.
So maybe you deserved this. Your long-awaited sleep. You had always tried so hard to cover up the dark circles under your brilliant eyes, but had never succeeded. Now the dresser at the morgue will have to attempt it one last time for you.
I stay there with you for four days.
I get use to the acidic smell.
I get use to the stiff cold.
I get use to the blanket of darkness.
My body shuts down.
I draw my cracked and busted knees up to my chest, the joints popping as they move. I don’t feel hunger, I don’t feel thirst, and I don’t feel the need of elimination.
I watch you.
She’ll move, she’ll wake up, I lie to myself.
The truth hurts worse than anything else.
I jump as the crow lands once more on the tiny wooden window seal.
I tell it to go away; I tell it I knew I shouldn’t have looked.
It laughs at me.
The sudden noise startles the dust around me, and scares away the mice feeding hurriedly on what remains of you, hiding their reddened muzzles from the light pouring in through the building’s cracks. They seem to be hoping the crow doesn’t see them as I do.
It laughs again, and swoops down next to me.
Another crow lands on the window seal.
And another.
And another.
A group, a pack, a flock.
Black, empty, beady eyes analyze me, watch me, savor me.
The crow said not to look, but curiosity is a terrible, gnawing thing, is it not? When intuition beings to understand the trap, few things can distract it from such a discovery. And so much happens in such a little time. Electrodes fire away in the intellectual lump of fat atop our necks. The heart quickens, the senses heighten. Adrenaline pours out of the glands, preparing for fight or flight. But there is no fight. And there is no flight.
There is only the wreckage around me.
No exits. No civilization to hear me.
No energy to move me.
No life to save me.
And I hardly feel them as they peel the layers off me.
I hardly hear them above the blood pulsing in my veins.
I hardly hear them above their laughs, their laughs, their laughs.
They stay with me for three days.
Only when they found my eyes did I finally see the darkness you had seen.
Just you.
Crumpled on the floor, eyes wide and lips parted. Hand outstretched; I wonder, What had you been reaching for? Frizzy hair somehow neatly flowed from your heavy head, touching the floor. Gracing the wooden boards with your strands, as if thanking them for being your only support in life. You lonely, heartless beast. And your eyes, pale and vacant, staring blankly into the wall, almost begging for some sort of answer that would never be received. And your stench. You would have never let yourself smell so horribly. You were too self-conscious for that; nothing had ever been good enough for you, for society. Not even your own handwriting. You were so preoccupied with pleasing everyone else, putting yourself last.
And so maybe this was how it was suppose to be.
So maybe you deserved this. Your long-awaited sleep. You had always tried so hard to cover up the dark circles under your brilliant eyes, but had never succeeded. Now the dresser at the morgue will have to attempt it one last time for you.
I stay there with you for four days.
I get use to the acidic smell.
I get use to the stiff cold.
I get use to the blanket of darkness.
My body shuts down.
I draw my cracked and busted knees up to my chest, the joints popping as they move. I don’t feel hunger, I don’t feel thirst, and I don’t feel the need of elimination.
I watch you.
She’ll move, she’ll wake up, I lie to myself.
The truth hurts worse than anything else.
I jump as the crow lands once more on the tiny wooden window seal.
I tell it to go away; I tell it I knew I shouldn’t have looked.
It laughs at me.
The sudden noise startles the dust around me, and scares away the mice feeding hurriedly on what remains of you, hiding their reddened muzzles from the light pouring in through the building’s cracks. They seem to be hoping the crow doesn’t see them as I do.
It laughs again, and swoops down next to me.
Another crow lands on the window seal.
And another.
And another.
A group, a pack, a flock.
Black, empty, beady eyes analyze me, watch me, savor me.
The crow said not to look, but curiosity is a terrible, gnawing thing, is it not? When intuition beings to understand the trap, few things can distract it from such a discovery. And so much happens in such a little time. Electrodes fire away in the intellectual lump of fat atop our necks. The heart quickens, the senses heighten. Adrenaline pours out of the glands, preparing for fight or flight. But there is no fight. And there is no flight.
There is only the wreckage around me.
No exits. No civilization to hear me.
No energy to move me.
No life to save me.
And I hardly feel them as they peel the layers off me.
I hardly hear them above the blood pulsing in my veins.
I hardly hear them above their laughs, their laughs, their laughs.
They stay with me for three days.
Only when they found my eyes did I finally see the darkness you had seen.