Long Poetic Titles Really Aren't Necessary.[EDITING]

Wednesday, August 8, 2018 (1:25am)

I'm sitting in the back seat of my Aunts van

The seats are a light brown

But I don't think they've always been this brown

That feeling is back in my stomach

And the me inside is standing by them self

My throat still feels raw and whenever I speak

Every word I try to say comes out as a broken whisper

I try to call out to them

My other side

But they're not next to me anymore

But I know they're here

I can feel them

I can feel their toes curl

And I'm thinking it's me

But when I look down

Nothing's happening

My toes weren't curled into themselves

I can feel the sobs wracking my body

I can feel the tears streaking down my face

But when I reach up to touch them

My skin is bare, completely untouched

I start walking

I don't know exactly why or where I'm going

But I am

And eventually I find a small black box

I stop, and call out for them again

The sobbing in my chest intensifies

"This is confusing"

I'd say to myself

The sobbing would stop

"Where are you? Why not just tell me? Let me help you".

Silence

I wait

"I Don't know"

"Don't know what"?

The feeling on my cheek returns

End.