Shadows

The glass before me reflects a scattered reflection of myself.
The glass before me reflects a scattered reflection of the past.

Motionlessly, I stand in the center of the room.
Motionlessly, I stand on the smooth wooden floor.

The bars on the walls were once inviting, now they mock me.
The bars on the walls point out my every weakness.
The bars on the walls remind me of abandoned dreams.

How did I end up here?

My eyes land on bits for shredded poster, they lay across the floor like a layer of dust.
My eyes land on bits of shattered glass, they lay across the floor like a reflective rug.

Dirty and tattered Pointe shoes lay on the floor, like the corpse of a lost dancer.
Dirty and tattered Pointe shoes lay on the floor, like the corpse of who I was.

What brought me here?
What brought me back?

My eyes search the room, it is untouched.
My eyes search for any sign of use.

I find no difference.
The room is the same.
I find no difference.
My own personal dance studio is still in the same state that my rage left it years ago.

“I would love to see you dance again.” Viv’s voice echoes through the room.

I don’t say anything, I continue to stare at my lifeless reflection.
I don’t say anything, I let Viv kiss the top of my hair.
I don’t say anything, I watch Viv walk out of the room.

&&

It’s late, I’m laying awake in bed.
My eyes are shut tightly, the screaming sirens bounce around inside my head.

I cannot deal with the pain.
I cannot deal with the sound.
I cannot deal with the memories.

The sirens are louder, and louder.
The sirens are so loud that my eyes open wide.
This is too real.

My room is filled with red and blue flashes.
My room is filled with loud voices.

I am past PTSD, I am insane.
I am hallucinating and I am hearing voices.

Finally, I realize that I am not insane.
Finally, I realize this is real.

I make my way cautiously to the window/
I pull the curtains back unsurely.

My eyes burn, the lights from the emergency vehicles are blinding.
My eyes adjust; the lights are parked in front of Alex’s house.

His mom, stands on the sidewalk, she is screaming at someone.
His dad, stands on the sidewalk, he is screaming at someone.
He sits on his front steps, looking at this phone, screaming at no one.

Alex looks up, he sees me in the window.
Alex looks up, he shows me bloody lip and black eye.
Alex looks down, pretending that this is normal.

The lights and the sounds leave me with dull aching memories.
The lights and the sounds leave me with pain I don’t want.

&&

It’s been years, and they don’t fit right anymore.
It’s been years, and they feel so familiar.

My pointe shoes sent indescribable pain through my feet.
My pointe shoes sent indescribable joy through my body.

I dance like I haven’t missed a class for the past few years.
I dance like I practice for hours everyday.
I dance like I it’s the only thing I know how to do.

For the first time in years, I feel like a dancer.
For the first time in years, I feel like Carson.

My phone vibrates against the floor, creating an unappealing sound.
My phone vibrates against the floor, indication that I have a message.
My phone vibrates against the floor, deliver in Alex’s message.

‘unlock the door’