imapoet

~~~

Unfortunately, it was rainy. If I could change the weather, I would. I didn't want Penny to come back from school on a sad rainy day. But, I suppose it fit the mood.

I sat there for hours on some bench. The cold nipped at my nose and my finger tips. But I held my umbrella, and the smaller blue one I had bought for her. I didn't think I would need it this early, but here we were I guess.

The train ended up being late, there was some kind of issue with the engine and they had to get a guy out there. I couldn't stop thinking about how different my life was going to be from now on. I've only met her a few times, Nathan said she had behavioral issues. I just think they didn't know how to parent properly—its why I pulled her out of school as soon as I got custody. I was homeschooled, and I turned out fine.

Anyway, three hours after the original time, I heard the whistle of a train and I lifted my head. I saw the machine pulling in, and as soon as it stopped, kids flooded out. Adults ran behind a couple of groups, trying to wrangle them all in an orderly fashion, but they were all too excited to see their families to care anymore.

I stood from my bench, holding the umbrella, probably looking like some kind of dork. I looked around the crowd for her, but I didn't see her immediately. When I did catch sight of her, one of the train members was helping her off of the train. Probably emotional support? I dunno.

Penny didn't recognize me until the attendant pointed me out. I had seen the young lady before, when I came to Penny's school for a meeting that said I was her new legal guardian. She was assigned to be Penny's counselor.

When Penelope did see me, the counselor said goodbye and let Penny come to me. I couldn't tell if she was a slow walker or just really nervous. But, when she did come to me, I knelt down and offered her the umbrella. She took it almost immediately and opened it up.

"What are you doing here?"

She was the first one to speak—and for that I was thankful, because I had no idea what I was doing. But, her question caught me off guard. Did her counselor not tell her that I was adopting her?

Before I could do something less stupid, my hand dug into my pocket and pulled out the folded up adoption certificate—I had been keeping it near me, mostly just my way of processing having a child. "Kiddo, i-..."

My voice caught in my throat and I just sighed, quietly handing her the paper. She didn't seem like such a terrible child right now...

"You-... You adopted me?" She asked me quietly, looking up from the paper. I could see the tears forming in her eyes and I just nodded. I didn't want to say anything sappy, and I don't think I had it in me.

"Can I-.. can I keep this?" She continued, I could hear the break in her voice. I, again, nodded. I don't know why, I wanted to keep that little certificate. But, suddenly my want was squished by her little voice in my head.

"Yeah. You can have whatever you want," I responded, giving her the best smile I could muster. I stood up and rested my hand on her head, gently ruffling her blonde curls.

"C'mon. We've gotta get out of this weather," I added, putting my hand on her shoulder and pulling her along with me.

The walk home was quiet. She didn't speak. She just held the little paper close and kept the umbrella right over her head. I played with the idea of saying something, but I decided against it. She seemed fine in the silence.

Just as we reached my place, as I was opening the door, she spoke up behind me.

"...what do I call you?" She asked.

I couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle. I held the door open and let her go first, motioning to the little umbrella holder.

"Whatever you like—preferably not my first name, though. You used to call me Uncle Henry, that still works for me," I said, untying my boots and setting them aside.

When I turned around to find her, she was gone. Probably in the spare bedroom that she had taken over a couple years prior—Nathan and Pep liked to go out a lot, Penny stayed with me and she started putting stickers on things that didn't require stickers.

I decided to leave her alone for a little while. She was still grieving... Hell, I was too. I didn't push dinner. I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't hungry, and I wasn't either. Instead, I sat in my living room and read some old book about a war that happened a couple centuries ago.

I didn't even realize it, but hours had passed since I originally sat down. I glanced down at my watch, then looked around suspiciously. Penny hadn't been too loud, or broken anything. I closed my book, and was about to go bother her when she came to me. Or well, ran at me and jumped on top of me.

I let out a strangled yelp and pulled her back to look at her. I thought she was bleeding or something. "What? What is it? Are you bleeding? Something hurt?"

I could hear her sniffling, and assumed something was wrong. But she shook her head and instead reached into her pockets. I finally got a good look at her, and realized she was crying. Out of instinct, I reached out and wiped the tears off. She didn't move away. Instead, she grabbed a paper that had stickers on it—because why wouldn't she have that in her pocket?—and started putting them on my face.

I had expected so much worse, so honestly I just sat there and accepted these stickers. When the stickers ran out, Penny just leaned into me and didn't stop crying. But I didn't pry. I just put my arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

"I miss them too... And I'm not sending you back to that school, Pen," I mumbled, trying to come up with a way to comfort her without actually knowing what was wrong.

She did quiet down, and I felt relieved. She looked up at me, those green eyes that matched her father's stuck to mine. I just tiled my head in a silent question.

"...thank you for taking me in. I- I thought someone was gonna pick me up and take me to an orphanage," she said.

My eyes widened and I shook my head. "No, no, no. You know what I went through in that place. You think I'd let you end up in a place like that?"

Penelope sniffled and stared at me with this helpless expression. She put her arms around me, and I hugged her back. I could hear her little heart racing, and honestly... The idea of letting her lose herself in a place as terrible as that, it was enough to keep me up at night.

"Over my dead body, kiddo."

~~~

I wanna post my writing but I don't want to get censored or killed or stoned in the streets

Background info, this is like... When Silcio dies, basically their goodbye, what rayla does while she waits for him, and when she finds out

~~~

Unlike most of the death in my life, I didn't see the body. It was one of the more normal ones...

"I can't just leave her alone, Ray," he'd said to me.

"She's sixteen. She doesn't need you babying her anymore." Honestly, I'd regretted saying it ever since it came out of my mouth.

"She's a kid! Momma and Pa don't even remember her half the time. What if something happens and I'm not there?!"

I only sighed and crossed my arms. I didn't want to admit it. But he was right. Maybe I just grew up too fast.

"It'll only be a few days. I know things are different now that we're married, but I'll be back before you know it," he said, his voice growing softer.

I remember how he reached for me. Like how he always did. It wasn't one of those "it felt final" moments. It was like every other time. Comfortable, but loving nonetheless. He held my hands in his and pulled me closer to kiss the top of my head.

"You've been clingy since the boy died," he commented quietly.

I hated talking about that. "So?"

"So, I'm trying to teach you independence, beautiful," he teased quietly. His arm went around my waist and he swayed us just a little, enough for us to take a few steps, but not enough to need music.

"I *am* independent," I mumbled back. My hands went to his ears, playing with them for a few moments before pulling away.

"Stupid deer," I added. But I couldn't help the smile on my face.

"I knew you'd come around. Just you see, you'll wake up tomorrow morning to my handsome face, and I'll be happy knowing that Opal is okay."

He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder and ruffled my hair just a bit before heading to the door.

"I love youuuuu," he said, leaning his head back to look at me.

"I love you too," I responded, mustering up a better smile than the begrudging one from before.

It's not like he hadn't been gone for more than a few days. But I dunno. Maybe I was just hoping he would keep his word. Maybe I was just hoping something would go my way for once.

But I remember being called into Hyde's office about four days later. I was sour from Silcio's absence, so I thought maybe I had said something harsh to someone important on accident and he was chewing me out.

A newspaper was set between us.

"You know where this is?" He asked gruffly, crossing his arms.

"That's Silcio's forest." I only glanced at the paper, at the picture on it. Didn't read the words. I looked back at him, obviously annoyed why he was showing me some paper with Silcio's home on it.

"Rayla, look at the paper," he said firmly.

Fire. *Fire*.

"This is how you break the news to me? You show me some newspaper? Don't even have the decency to say it?!" I snapped, standing up from the chair and slamming my hands on his desk.

"He was my friend too! People outside of you grieve too! But I couldn't keep this from you!" Hyde responded.

"He wasn't just my friend, Hyde! He was my husband!" I said loudly.

I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. Like my chest was being weighed down by the weight of the earth. Like my heart had been ripped out.

Most people say that they can't think when they experience something like that. I had the opposite problem. My mind replayed every moment with him. Every laugh, every cry, every argument, every make up, the first time we kissed, the day Tommy was born.

I realized something.

I wasn't independent. I was dependent. On him.

I remember finding an alley outside and falling into the ground. On my hands and knees. It was pathetic. But no one watched, they all assumed I was on drugs or something. That was fine. I've done worse than drugs.

I hadn't even noticed. I felt guilty. Like if I truly loved him, wouldn't I have felt it? Wouldn't I have felt that same feeling when Tommy died? The pit in my stomach, the aching that a part of me was missing. But I felt nothing. These past few days I spent hoping for him to come home, not realizing that something was wrong.

That made me a bad wife. A bad lover. A bad partner.

I sat there for hours. Maybe more? I didn't know. I just knew it was dark when I looked at the sky again. A selfish part of me waited for someone to come find me. To come pick me up, piece me back together.

But no one came.

So I picked myself up and went back to my room at the House of Thelonious. Because that's all I know how to do. Pick myself up. Hide in my room. Do what I'm told.

I realized that I don't need someone to lean on. I don't need someone to piece me back together.

I feel more like a puppet. I need someone to pull my strings, I need someone to make me dance.

Join art fight, they said

It'll be fun, they said

THEY SAID TO THE WRITER WHO CANNOT DRAW

~~~

Choose

I've been switching between houses for five years

I've been living between families, lives, and mindsets

I've come to the age where I can choose

I can choose to live in the place with laughter

I can choose to live with comfort

I can choose to live where my voice will be heard, but not responded to, seen but only gawked at

Or, I can choose to live with the one thing I've always craved

I can choose to live with something that keeps me strong

I can choose to live where my voice will be heard but criticized, seen but told to cover up

I can choose both

I can choose to have my mind torn in half

I can choose to keep the peace outside while losing it on the inside

I can choose to feel that internal war just so that there isn't one outside

I can choose to keep the only thing dear to me happy

I can choose to have him grow up in a world as normal as I make it

Because his life is in my hands

He doesn't understand my story and I don't want him to

He doesn't understand that I hurt so he can heal

He doesn't understand that choosing is the worst kind of losing

Heh. You Foolish Mortal. You dare assume such a figure exists in my own phantasmagoric life. That any mother of mine has remained long enough for me to find your simplistic joke even mildly amusing.

~~~

I'm running through the woods, winds throwing my hair this way and that. Honestly it's kind of difficult to tell if I'm running away or running towards something.

An excited feeling rises in my chest, like I'm succeeding. But before I can actually feel accomplished, there is a sudden and sharp pain directly in my chest. I look down and see blood. Then I fall to my knees, then the floor.

Then I woke up.

I looked around the room. Kind of dingy, but it was nothing that couldn't be spruced up with a bit of love. There was a soft knock on my door, and I realized that I was breathing pretty heavily. That I was sweating.

"...hm? Who is it?" I asked, my voice shaky from the nightmare.

"Who else?" Answered the familiar, deeper voice. It was Silcio. He sounded sleepy, but still himself. "May I come in?"

"Yes, you may."

The door opened with a soft creak. His sweet, worried face poked inside. "I heard you yelling... Are you alright?"

I nodded, trying to hide the tremors in my hands. We didn't know each other that well, he didn't need to know of my own struggles.

"Fine. I'm sorry if I woke you," I responded, perhaps a bit too... Directly. I didn't want to be mean, but I didn't want to sound helpless either.

"No, I was up anyway. I just got worried when I heard your screams—they're quite the rarity," he answered, giving a soft but playful smile.

I forced a laugh and nodded. Silcio had been kind to me. He kept me fed, made sure people remembered who I was. He refused to let me fall into the shadows—because he could tell I wanted to. I appreciated that about him. He was a kind young man.

"Right... It was just a bad dream," I murmured, rubbing my arms with my palms.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I might be able to do to help?" He asked sincerely.

I shook my head, not wanting to inconvenience him. "No, no, no. It's alright. I just... Ever since coming here, after all the crazy life events, I get bad dreams sometimes."

He nodded. "Right. Well, let me know if you need anything. I'm just down the hall."

I knew where he stayed. He often let me decompress in his room. It felt somewhat like a sanctuary. He was like a flashlight in a dark tunnel. Not lighting everything up, but making each step forward bearable.

He gave me one last look before turning to leave.

"Wait!"

I didn't want to be alone.

"Huh?"

He didn't want to abandon me like this.

"...would it be completely inappropriate for me to ask if you stayed with me tonight?" I looked away from him, but I heard him step completely into my room and close the door with a heavy sigh.

"It would be. Since we're colleagues and all... But honestly, Thelonious knows me. Trusts me, trusts you. I'm sure we could get away with one night," he responded playfully, stepping closer to my bed.

I scooted over and he crawled in beside me. I glanced at him for a moment, his eyes were on my belly—rather than me.

"It's not doing a whole lot. Honestly, I just look like I had a big dinner right now," I said tiredly. "Don't look at it. Look at me."

Silcio looked at me and tilted his head with a slight smile. "Right, because you're much more important."

I knew his comment was supposed to be sarcastic, but in that moment, I felt more important than the lump in my stomach. "Yes, how'd you know?"

"Oh, just a guess," he whispered back, resting his head on the pillow next to mine. He reached his hand out between us, just offering it.

I took it and relaxed against my own pillow. His eyes were caught on mine. I preferred it that way. At least, I did for now.

"I knew they were two different colors, but I never noticed how beautiful they looked together until now..." He mumbled.

"You're just saying that," I responded, squeezing my eyes shut.

"You're the one that told me to look at you," he said. "...please open your eyes again."

I sighed and relented, letting myself look back at him. "Happy?"

"Very."

"But I am tired, so I'm going to close my eyes again," I whispered teasingly.

He chuckled slightly and nodded, squeezing my hand. It was nice. Reminded me I wasn't alone. "Good night, Miss Gray."

"I hate it when you call me that. Just call me Rayla," I mumbled, squeezing his hand back.

"Mm.. right, Rayla."

~~~

I Look Down

People always say

"Maggie look!"

The sky

The clouds

The stars

I strain my neck

Squint my eyes

Bear the burden that is above

Just to see what

They found beautiful

"It's nice."

I'd say

"Oh yeah."

I'd say

"How about that?"

My head tilts down

"A bug."

The grass

The concrete

The nature that persists

Because it isn't

The same kind of beautiful

It's the world

Beneath our feet

It's a world,

In which,