HURRICANE

XLIII.

MY MOTHER SAYS NO 

MATTER HOW MUCH YOU 

WASH

SOME STAINS ARE

PERMANENT 

I REALLY HOPE

YOU'RE NOT ONE OF THEM.

.

niall had fallen

asleep

on the bed.

but i wanted

o u t.

i got dressed

and threw on a beanie

to cover up the hair.

i smiled in the mirror

by 

the

door.

i was not pretty.

like i wished to be

i saw my bones

move beneath

my 

skin

and i frowned.

u g l y.

isn't that what mother always

told

me?

i glance back at niall

and walk out the door.

the streets

aren't crowded

they aren't 

empty.

there's art where ever

i look.

and it's beautiful.

i figure

liam

and

zayn

are off fucking somewhere

with 

the eyes they were making

at 

eachother.

i hope

they don't destory each other.

i open a shop,

sort of a book store

but with alcohol.

i smiled.

this was were i 

belonged.

i walked in,

the door swishing behind me

and i looked around

there were books everywhere.

i slid my fingertips

along the spines

and pull one off thoughtfully,

poetry of the ages — bucowski

it said on the spine.

i look around and find

a chair.

sitting comfortably i find

a random page,

page 34,

and the top read:

the difficulty of breathing

"Small.. unnerving occurrences..

keep coming up

one after the other:

haphazard dumb accidents of freakish chance-

the tiring tasks that are part of our routine 

and the sundry other ever-recurring annoyances—

all these inevitable small defeats and sorrows rub and push 

continually up against the moments the days the years

until one almost wishes

almost begs for a larger more meaningful destiny.

I can almost understand why people leap from bridges.

I even understand in part those who arm themselves and slaughter their friends and innocent strangers.

I am not exactly in sympathy with them 

and I decry their reckless behavior

but I can understand the ultimate undeniable persistent..

force of their misery.

the horrific violent failure of any one of us

to live properly

says to me that 

we are all equally guilty for every human crime.

there are no innocents.

and if there is no hell,

those who coldly judge these unfortunates 

will create one for us all."

the line that stuck was simply:

"i can almost understand why people leap from bridges."

m e

t o o .