Saturday, June 13, 2009

The SilverSun Pickups play steady on your radio.
It's fall out, September, closing in on October, and raining hard.
The past two weeks you've barely been breathing.
Just a ball of disgust or apathy.
Just a mess of nothing.
Today you've got this awful cough.
The kind that makes your throat feel raw and shakes you.
You're staying home because they made you,
Then left for their own lives.
You've been outside since nine, lying on the driveway, watching the sky.
You're soaked through now;
You're clothes are clinging to you like they're trying to steal your warmth.
This morning, you woke up for school, got completely ready, before you were stopped and deemed 'contagious.'
At first you were angry and frustrated and restless and just
Gone.
Because that's just how you are now,
Without relent or escape.
But then you found this CD on the computer and downloaded it.
The first chords and you started to calm down.
Now, you're just breathing, un-thinking.
It's not until lightning flashes over head that you think maybe you should get inside.
Before your mom gets home, especially, because wouldn't it just be so awful
For her,
To find you outside,
Acting all 'abnormal', like you do.
Your fingers on your right hand press into the cement, scraping rough on your skin.
There you go again,
Losing that temporary calm.
Your eyes are shifting into a glare at the sky,
And this small part of you feels sad that you can't seem to not be like this.
You don't dwell though, because again you are
Repulsed by everything.
Angry and tired, you jerk to your feet and stomp inside.
Your radio is still outside playing the same song over and over again,
The sound coming out clear regardless of the towel covering it from the rain.
If you could find a solid calm...
'...Lost and loaded...'

© Copyright 2007 Abby Almon

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