006
I rarely took notes,
but something just
stuck
when I rested my eyes
on
The Girl With The Burns.
(I decided on calling her Scorch.)
She was horrifyingly beautiful;
her skin was a pale pink,
but her mint eyes danced
around the blanked spots
where the hair used to be.
The scars ran especially deep
around her eyelids,
draping down her face
almost gracefully.
I thought they looked like tears.
But it wasn’t the burns
or the way her skin
almost looked like
plastic,
it was the way
that she talked to
thin air.
These people were so
c r a z y.
I don’t belong here.
I’m completely
n o r m a l.
I knew the future
my sons would have made
for everyone,
and it sure as hell wasn’t
p r e t t y.
I can’t believe they
blame me
for saving the world.
I saved the world.
I saved the world.
My jagged fingernails slowly began
to dig into the already scarred flesh
of my palm
until the security guard
had to put a bandaid
on my hand.
I wasn’t crazy.
I explained this in great detail
to Judith
(who just happened to be standing around)
as everyone surrounding me
(especially Scorch)
watched me.
