Thirteen

Chapter Nineteen: Lia

Chapter Nineteen:

I stood in the very back of the room, where it was dark. My arms were crossed over my chest. The exit was right beside me. Soon, it would be time. But first, I had to hear Trim's poem. And he had to hear mine. 

He looked nervous. Nervous, but handsome. His hair curled against his cheekbones and his dark velvety brown eyes flicked back and forth as he mounted the stairs, stepped gingerly across the stage, and sat down on the stool. He had a piece of paper in his hands and he looked down at it. He drew in a long, shuddering breath and his eyes traversed the crowd of people. They found my own. My heart beat a little bit faster. I attempted to ignore it. A slight blush crawled up his cheeks and he looked down again. 

Clearing his throat, he started to talk. I'd never heard him speak before. His voice was low, a rusty-sounding alto, slightly raspy, and very emotional. It was a nice voice. A good voice. He recited his poem. 

What is life? 

Is it the arms around her, 

without a single feeling? 

Is it the couple on the park bench, 

laughing together? 

Is it the scrape on my knee

as a child climbing the tree?

Is it the tear

that slips down my face?

Is it the ribs that show through my skin?

What is love? 

Is it the heartbeat that quickens

when I look at her? 

Is it the foreign feeling

of happiness that comes

when I stare at her eyes?

Is it the feeling:

like I've known her forever

when in fact we haven't shared

a single word?

Is it the dread of leaving, 

knowing that I'm leaving her?

Is it the thought 

of her that my mind captures

almost all the time?

What is death? 

Is it the chill 

that creeps up my limbs

when I step outside?

Is it the snow falling

from the cold, grey sky? 

Is it the silence that I long to hear?

Is it my lap, 

who beckons all my tears?

Who am I? 

The world won't ever know. 

And neither will I. 

So I'll say goodnight. 

I'll say goodbye. 

But just know

that I'm full of questions

that have no answers. 

I'm full of promises

that won't be carried out. 

I'm full of words

that are empty. 

I'm full of feelings

that are fake. 

I'm full of confusion

that won't ever be cleared away. 

So I'll say goodnight. 

I'll say goodbye. 

I was stunned. It was a breathtaking poem and I'm fairly certain that I saw a tear slip down Trim's nose and drop onto his pant leg. I felt sympathy. And I felt sorry. 

And I clapped so hard my hands hurt because it was a beautiful poem and I knew what he was going to do. This handsome boy who had just poured his heart out to this shocked and applauding audience, was going to kill himself. 

And I knew exactly how he felt.