Dirty

The bathroom was dirty.  The off-white tiles shined almost brown in the cheap fluorescent lighting.  She noticed right away there were no paper towels, only hand dryers, the kind that blow all the dust and germs around.

She checked the first stall and then the seconds-no, still dirty.  She would have to hold it until she got home after school, or skip 3rd period to go home to pee.

Grabbing her bag, she ran to her English III class, making it just in time before the bell.  The teacher had announced she had a treat for everyone today, and the girl had been looking forward to it for a while.  M n M’s; natural serotonin.  Good.  Maybe now her mind would calm down a little.  Maybe now she would stop imagining the bathroom air sticking to her, soiling her clothes and skin.

The teacher lifted the giant jar out from under her desk.  The candy was not individually wrapped.

The girl’s heart began to pound in her chest.  Damn it.  In reached the 1st students hands, grabbing what he could.  Then the 2nd, then the 3rdDirty.

She’d have to go without.  Too risky.  The fear outweighed the momentary benefit-and so she refrained, once again, from experiencing life.  She couldn’t help but feel punished.

As class drew to a close, she reached for her bag.  A classmate noticed her hands, red and raw and asked if she had a rash.

No, just wash them a lot.  Understatement.

You need to get some help, then.  Cause that’s weird. 

Pause.

Then a breath, angry and hurt.  She squeezed her hand into a fist, and the skin began to crack and bleed.

She was smart, so smart, so she couldn’t understand how she couldn’t reason herself out of this.

The color was gone from her life, and fear had taken its place.

By this time, skipping 3rd period was a must.  She couldn’t wait until the day’s end to use the bathroom.  So she ducked out of class and snuck off to her car.

On the familiar drive home, she let the tears come freely as she drove.  Punishment seemed too friendly a term.  Hell was more like it.  Confined, in her own head.

She gripped the wheel tightly, as her hands shook.  The road was empty; no one would see.  The car was already picking up speed.  The Slow down – Sharp Curve Ahead sign far in front of her kept whispering its ominous warning.  All she had to do was let go, just for a moment, and it would all be over.

Maybe in the next life she’d be normal.

But as usual, I’m just not brave enough, she thought.

She pulled into her parent’s driveway, thankful they weren’t home.  No witnesses to see her suffer.  She preferred aloneness; silence was the most loyal friend.

After using the bathroom, going back to school right away seemed useless, somehow.  So she turned on the shower and let the steam fill the room.  She still felt dirty from stepping into the high school bathroom, and she felt just crazy enough to try anything, so she stepped into the shower, fully clothed, praying that the hot water would heal her.

And she sank lower and lower underneath the heat, until she was curled up in a corner, letting the water burn her skin clean.

Too bad she went crazy.  They all said.  Too bad.

But this wasn’t crazy.  This was OCD.  But she didn’t know.

And she didn’t know how to not blame herself.  For not being like everyone else-not able to let things flow off her, down the drain.

 

 

Photo Credit: Andrew Gustar Flickr via Compfight cc

Hidden Truth

 

 

Where they sent me

To recover

Destroyed parts of me

Unseen

The soft parts

Of my underbelly

Soiled

And broken,

I’m

Like a doll

Who cocks her head

And smiles on cue

Open my mouth

And take a pill

To swallow the crazy

That no one else

Wants to see

Photo Credit: .v1ctor Casale. Flickr via Compfight cc

I asked for it

Would you hurt me

If I asked you to

 

Would you strip away my dignity

And undress me with your eyes

 

Let me tremble beneath

Your hungry gaze

 

Even as I covered over

My naked body with my hands

 

And sank to the cold

Bathroom floor

 

Until the tears came

And I sobbed

 

Victimized

But I asked for it, right?

 

So, you’re off the hook.

Photo Credit: mitchell haindfield Flickr via Compfight cc

Burying You

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And yet

I stand here,

Trapped

 

Surrounded on all

Four Sides

With reminders of you

 

Staring me down

Telling me it’s

Time to let go

 

Photo Credit: Ellieboat via Compfight cc

Vengeance

She stands still, looking out over the sea

I hold my breath, watching from an upstairs window

Does she know she isn’t alone?

 

A breeze takes her by surprise, and a curl

Of hair is pulled from her cap

Blowing gently across her face.

 

Does she sense another presence,

Another pair of eyes-observing?

There is a noise in the distance, and

She abruptly turns her head to locate.

 

I instinctively take a step back in my place

Of concealment

But I have no reason to cower

The shadows give me the upper hand

Does she know she is my salvation?

 

Everything is so much simpler than

I had previously thought

For all my calculations and detailed notes-

My breathe still catches every time

She moves.

 

Observation is not understanding, but

It’s pretty close

And anticipation carries a purpose

Does she sense, in her bones, my

Ache and longing?

 

Before I realize what’s happening

I’m reaching out to take hold-

My arm, exposed to the moonlight,

My hand slowly closing into a fist.

 

As the waves crash along the shore

She’s dropping to her knees

Clutching at her throat

Scratching for breath,

Staining her soft white neck

With a frenzy of red.

 

I realize this is my choice

I realize I deserve this

And at the same time

It will also prove to be my undoing.

 

But I have waited

I have kept still and quiet

In the shadows

 

And as my grip tightens,

I watch her reach out once more

To the hissing night-

Before tumbling down

Into the ocean.

 

Then all is still

The deed is done

I only hope to God

The ocean will

Wash away my sins.

Photo Credit: SageScapes Flickr via Compfight cc

Enough

I stand here in the rain
watching you run so you
don’t get your hair wet.

Such a difference
between us.

All the time-
making it seem like
there is no reason for
what I do.

But I love it.
All the droplets falling down.

It makes me believe I will wash away-
if I just stand here long enough.

Monster

I will weep

When you get

What you deserve.

 

I will cry out with pain

When they hit you

And spit on you

And call you names

 

Showing their hate

Of you,

Making you feel stupid

 

I will lose sleep

Waiting for you to

Come home, bruised

And beaten

 

So I can hold you

In my arms and

Rock you to sleep

 

I will know why.

What you’ve done

Is unforgivable

 

But you are my son

I can’t help but love

What I’ve created.

 

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