I'm lying in a hosital bed and I'm so lonely. I think that I'm going to blow up into ten thousand tiny pieces. I'm coming undone. I'm unwinding. I need to write. I need to write.
"i get up and walk to the window. i feel all eyes upon my back as i lift the blinds. my teacher calls out my name, asking what in goodness sakes do i think i'm doing, but i'm not listening; i'm already punching out the screen. i look to the first row, last seat, to the boy who is staring back at me; from between my lips slide the words "i love you," and before i know it, i am in free fall.
the drop is only two stories, and yet it feels like a full minute that i am falling. twisting, slipping, curling over on myself. i can hear the screams and screeches of surprise from above me, and all i can see is a blur of brick, grass, concrete, brick, grass, concrete.
i feel a surge of energy pulse through my veins, and i think: "dear god. i'm dying."
the teacher above me leans frantically out the window, her hands in her hair, screaming, "stop! class! everyone, back..." the class has crowded around her, wondering what in god's name is going on; the only person who remains in his seat is the boy.
he brushes off his jeans with his palms and rises from his seat, meandering to the last window in the room. his electric blue eyes scan the faces of his classmates, and as he sees their terrified, confused expressions, he tosses his hair from his eyes and lets out a laugh of pleasure. he looks to the window, lifts the blinds, and looks down at my falling body. he smiles to himself.
i am inches, parts of inches, centimeters, from the concrete when something inside of me snaps. i can feel bone splintering, skull contorting, body twisting, moving; flying.
i scream, but the scream is caught in my throat and from my lips emerges a soft song; subtle, but boasting; and meaningful, and powerful. it's the song of a phoenix, and as i am propelled off the ground as if there is a force preventing it, i spread my wings and burst upward. feathers are tickling my body and and i listen to my voice sing songs of wisdom, of worry.
i am flying, i am expanding, i am growing. i am shining, brighter than the eyes of two lovers, brighter than the cries of the widowed mother. with three pumps of the wings that make me soar, i am level to the window. i look inside the room for the briefest moment; and inside i see the teacher, dialing phones while at the same time trying to control the now-panicking students; and i see the boy, sitting in a corner, smirking and defiant. a flutter of feathers, a superficial song, and i am gone.
i am floating, high above the window that i dropped from, higher than the school i hated so much, higher than the sky, higher than the heavens. my throat bellows songs of praise, power, pride; lust, love, anger, angst. my wings pound against my body and as i look down upon the town that caused me so many tears, i wonder. i ponder, "what is it that made the caged bird emerge?" as i look down to the earth, hearing all the grief and giddiness, my phoenix insides begin to churn. i could be so much more than just a sob story, a success tale. i could float to the ground and walk the earth, and i could build a new one. i could build a ladder to the heaven of truth, and i could see the world burst open, flourish, and fly."
I'm frozen in place with IVs in my arm and tubes town my throat. I could be so much more than a sob story.
"i get up and walk to the window. i feel all eyes upon my back as i lift the blinds. my teacher calls out my name, asking what in goodness sakes do i think i'm doing, but i'm not listening; i'm already punching out the screen. i look to the first row, last seat, to the boy who is staring back at me; from between my lips slide the words "i love you," and before i know it, i am in free fall.
the drop is only two stories, and yet it feels like a full minute that i am falling. twisting, slipping, curling over on myself. i can hear the screams and screeches of surprise from above me, and all i can see is a blur of brick, grass, concrete, brick, grass, concrete.
i feel a surge of energy pulse through my veins, and i think: "dear god. i'm dying."
the teacher above me leans frantically out the window, her hands in her hair, screaming, "stop! class! everyone, back..." the class has crowded around her, wondering what in god's name is going on; the only person who remains in his seat is the boy.
he brushes off his jeans with his palms and rises from his seat, meandering to the last window in the room. his electric blue eyes scan the faces of his classmates, and as he sees their terrified, confused expressions, he tosses his hair from his eyes and lets out a laugh of pleasure. he looks to the window, lifts the blinds, and looks down at my falling body. he smiles to himself.
i am inches, parts of inches, centimeters, from the concrete when something inside of me snaps. i can feel bone splintering, skull contorting, body twisting, moving; flying.
i scream, but the scream is caught in my throat and from my lips emerges a soft song; subtle, but boasting; and meaningful, and powerful. it's the song of a phoenix, and as i am propelled off the ground as if there is a force preventing it, i spread my wings and burst upward. feathers are tickling my body and and i listen to my voice sing songs of wisdom, of worry.
i am flying, i am expanding, i am growing. i am shining, brighter than the eyes of two lovers, brighter than the cries of the widowed mother. with three pumps of the wings that make me soar, i am level to the window. i look inside the room for the briefest moment; and inside i see the teacher, dialing phones while at the same time trying to control the now-panicking students; and i see the boy, sitting in a corner, smirking and defiant. a flutter of feathers, a superficial song, and i am gone.
i am floating, high above the window that i dropped from, higher than the school i hated so much, higher than the sky, higher than the heavens. my throat bellows songs of praise, power, pride; lust, love, anger, angst. my wings pound against my body and as i look down upon the town that caused me so many tears, i wonder. i ponder, "what is it that made the caged bird emerge?" as i look down to the earth, hearing all the grief and giddiness, my phoenix insides begin to churn. i could be so much more than just a sob story, a success tale. i could float to the ground and walk the earth, and i could build a new one. i could build a ladder to the heaven of truth, and i could see the world burst open, flourish, and fly."
I'm frozen in place with IVs in my arm and tubes town my throat. I could be so much more than a sob story.
No comments:
Post a Comment