mortallypurpleshark

in some other life I'd be a prodigy

pianoforte, or cello, or opera

the crowd booming

my face on walls

The innocent girl, timid and afraid.

The girl whose pale and pasty skin,

has not seen the light of day in weeks.

She feeds only on what she's been given;

she never asks for more.

She is satisfied

or perhaps her hollowed heart simply knows,

that it will never get more.

For how could one be satisfied with so little?

under the bleachers

an obstructed view;

sky, the field and you

the worn laces and the shoes,

the muddy footprints,

traces of you,

your sweet, innocent oblivion

how i followed around, latched

a ghost, invisible;

look you say, 

at the stars, 

constellations a map, 

Greek goddesses, and myths

Persephone and Hades

Summer and winter

The earth in rotation 

Around the sun

The moon around the earth

Courses running in a parallel

Never to truly meet each other

Why?

His fall should’ve been well deserved.

But I knew, deep down,

there would be no redeeming—

no taking back what was lost:

the naivety and innocence of my girlhood,

I wish someone handed us a manual—

how to spot them, how to run—

but you’re a deer.

years of gripping this mountain,

ascending with my calloused hands.

going up is hard,

but getting down even more

unless i let go,

let the floor hit my back,

my intricately pieced body,

the bones that join and fuse,

scatter in my cavity.

will it hurt more than holding on,

the boys play in the dirt from the sidelines,

sand flying as they twist and turn to throw the ball,

you watch.

the boys with sweat on their foreheads,

sweat on their backs,

clothes flying, skin exposed—

you watch.

the boys teasing with inappropriate jokes

about girls and drinking,

you watch.

the boys, the boys—

sneaking glances enough to tempt you—

the boys, playing till after dark,

you watch.

the boys, the boys—

parasocial, paranormal entities—

you want to get close,

you want to be them,

the bitterness, the rage,

the boys, the boys—

hoping all this work will amount to something

all this torture and restlessness