S.S.

She traced the uneven scar that ran around her thigh like a coiled snake through her stockings. Every inch harkening a time long lost. She caught herself gazing out the window of her tiny, studio loft. It was dark even for a winter day. It was always on days like these that she felt herself reminisce, but she was going to be late. In a rush to get finished, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-size mirror next to her bed. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a red, frizzled mess. Dark stockings ran underneath a black dress. The outfit was contrasted against her pale, white skin. She hated everything about herself. She hated living alone...


Bound and ingratiated to you
Taken as a child and inside you I grew
Pushing at the glass ceiling pressing against my face
One day I'll break through and live in outer space

I didn't know how to feel at first
A love song that was backwards and perverse
50 shades of grey
Painting the very lines of the man you see today

They tried to tell me how to feel
They tried to define my reality yet it's all surreal
Support groups structured like classrooms
Burying individual thoughts in unmarked tombs

You loved me too much
You hurt me so much
I loved you for it
I loved you for it

The next social manifest written in 140 characters
Parables sung by charlatans in every neighborhood theatre
We're all in love with the vanity
Excess pushing the bounds of this universal sanity

The next prophet preparing his mass eulogy; euthanize
The next president preparing her national address; euthanize
The next preacher preparing his pulpit call; euthanize
The next teacher preparing her lesson plan; euthanize

You loved me so much
You hurt me too much
I loved you for it
I loved you for it


Time heals most wounds and 30 years certainly healed the physical ones. Her mini celebrity status kept her inside most times early on, but most of that has died down. There were the occasional looks but most of that was inside her head, she thought. It wasn't the looks she detested, it was what was behind them. They pitied her. They felt sorrow for her. She was just a girl when it happened. 30 years ago to the day. It was their anniversary. It was then she noticed one of the roses shudder under the clench of her balled fist. The sun began dipping behind the skyline signaling her to hurry the pace. She was almost there but the sunset was always our time. Making her way through the maze of stones, she knew the quickest route.

The sky now ablaze with oranges and purples, it was oddly the brightest it had been all day. Shakily, she dropped the roses next to the headstone that was now showing its age. She knew what it said though. It was painfully seared. "Here rests the body and soul of Charles M. Nelson." Absently, her hand began tracing the scar again but the trace began to apply more pressure and before she knew it, she was reopening her flesh with every repetition. The pain reminding her of precious times. Times they shared. His last living gift. The light dropped from the sky and her eyes. Hugging herself, she turned on her toes and began the trek back. They'll never understand...


SS