Striding from You 25
as long as I could, as fast as possible. It was good to breathe again. Along familiar lines and hidden roads, always ending up in the same destination, the exact location. The bridge, the rocks, the rough torturing waters. I dare walk closer to the edge. I lean over and gape in amazement. The memories of the sequences come at me. Nonetheless wracked with remorse. Fear and guilt creep up inside me. I glance and stare, sadness takes me for an eternal ride.
Before it can take me hostage, once again, I turn around and run from it. Past schools and houses. Past the parks and buildings, past the trees too, erasing them from my vision.
Rumors questioning my sanity. A determination of whether or not I falsified my whole life as a mirage. I was fleeing from existence, running from times I already gave up.
My true sister left this green earth adventuring in her next position in the universe. The vanity of having a good time claimed her life and that of her lover. Both souls swaying against the midnight currents. We were all in history learning about the fact, when my imagination only dreamed in fiction. Enclosed, I am claustrophobic in the body and skin I claim. Unaware of the fore comings. Definite I know that they try to take me under, to also evaporate my existence.
I am alive; leaning over, I heave and tug at my throat for oxygen. Thoughts pushed out. Not to think about this or that.
Just trying to survive with normalcy for a while.
A black car drove by; not now.
I paced myself steadily to focus.
"Autumn J, come on. Get in the car." He was speeding beside me as I raced away from him, always trying to save me.
Grips of the broken hand, making a fist, stabbing more pain. Tears came to my eyes, my heart lessening in power. Not today, I think as I run harder as the wind dries them up. Sprint away from this town, from him and from you. Forgetful of things that have broken me.
Goodbye, crossing over the turnpike I elude the fantasy. I transform into someone new. I contemplate the makeshift observation as something always readily available. Communication has gone down and I am the only one on board. I am the only one set here on the stage to survive. Once cast as her stand-in in the play. Each morning waking as the main character watching as I was accepting the bow for my own performance.
What were the requirements for mourning? Was it the sudden demise of a young student, the colossal triumph of the tragedy?
We waited as the verdict concluded their past in our lives.
We awaited the proposition of who would take the place as a remarkable fit citizen. We are all qualified, not offered the job.