The softest palms that never want to touch you until after a bottle of wine. “Just braid your hair if you won’t brush it, at least, you useless girl.” Pulling on your skirt with one hand as you shuffle away. “You’ll get it done before the day is up.” Guilt that isn’t yours to have. It’s a crooked game, but it’s the only one in town. Chains. “How could you do this to me?” The sharp sting of guilt. You feel something even though you’re paid to do the opposite. The family you never had. Falling backwards through time. Quicksand. Drowning, but you don’t save yourself. “You’re getting better.” They smile like a snake. Your stars and sky. There’s a part of you that couldn’t stay away even if you were forced to. They are your wings, there’s no doubt there. “Let’s take off somewhere. Let’s fly.” You edge a bit too close to the sun. Another ghost to take your place after every stumble. Deep roots in the ground slashed open in the sun. Rock candy melting in water. Waves rise and leave the foam behind. The precipice you call home has a tip you’ll reach eventually. Happiness is the best front a man can take. “I’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you before.” You disagree; they’re more beautiful. Discomfort at the tiniest of touches. The sky opens up when you see them. Rain comes down. Poppy fields. Your sanity hanging by a thread. “Oh god, what have you done?” Roommates weren’t supposed to be the smartest ones of all. They’ve got a devil on their shoulder and an angel in their mind. You try to help but it only got worse. Now they’re dead, it’s all your fault. Adam & Eve in the garden. A temptress in crisp button-downs. “Fuck, you’ve gone off the deep end, haven’t you? ” They lie so perfectly you almost forget yourself. The spark that lit the kindling on your funeral pyre. Sugar and spice and a taste for the dark side. Yves Saint Laurent Black Opium on your pillow, a scented cloud drifting behind you like a cape. Crisp green apples piled up on the table. Your shoes are sharp, but your wit is even sharper. What a pretty one, they say. You laugh without humor. A soft, hollow spot sits in your chest. There’s a place you’ll never leave no matter who tries to stop you. The seat of power fits like a glove. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. You share a space, but not a mind. They think you are weak. You are, maybe. “What are you going to do with all of these pills?” It shines up at you, mocking. Disappointment in three parts. An empty bird’s nest. Broken pencil tips. There’s an empty paper in front of you that you’ll never fill. “We want you to succeed. I hope you can grasp that.” They weren’t there when it happened. Corruption. There’s a red string tying you together. Bubblegum pink. The scent of whisky on the horizon. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” Pink tipped fingers lock in secrecy. “Yeah? That’s pretty sad.” you laugh. it’s the happiest sound they’ve heard. What a funny duck, they say. Making faces when you pass by a mirror. 99 red balloons drifting through a hazy sky. You try to lift your head up but it’s so much effort. Always walking on sunshine. There’s a million reasons to come down from the clouds but you can’t be bothered. Loon is the word of the day. Hair twisted up with glitter butterfly clips like a haphazard mobile.You drift, but you know where you’re going. No one has any dirt on you because you’re infinitely spotless. The empty side of your bed they crawled into when they were nine. Court hearings. “I miss you.” Siblings are a funny thing. They point out every family-shaped hole in every picture on the mantelpiece.
