look at you.
you're fucking insane.
you are not ready to enter the workforce.
you people are crazy.
what the hell are you looking at me like that for?
you're hyperventilating just from me standing here.
the hands shake as they grab mismatching socks and boots are slipped onto feet. they're not tied or zipper properly but that's not the priority right now.
a coat is grabbed, and the same hands look around for gloves but could only find one. so the feet leave without them.
the feet carry the rest of the body away. away from his voice and his mockery. this is so unlike him.
he should be a better man than this. he is a better man than this.
steps through grass transition to steps on asphalt.
salt running down cheeks, a hood pulled over to conceal them.
a tongue licks over lips, wishing the hands had grabbed some chapstick. too late now.
you're insa-
why is this the route today took?
why is this happening? what is happening?
i shouldn't leave. they're not safe with him right now.
that's what i do, though, right? i'm selfish, right?
your oldest daughter can't even-
step step step step step. a familiar route.
the same shaking hands reach into the coat pocket and pull out a phone. they send a message to her and hope she responds. she's at work.
but i want to be with her now. i need to be with her now.
there's too much racing around. i cant organize it. do i even know myself? i wish everyone understood me better. maybe i could learn a thing or two from them.
the phone vibrates. is it her? is she actually home? can she comfort me right now?
where are you? mom and i want to know you're safe.
nope. just home calling for me again. but i'm not turning around.
i reach the field and more specially the tree. i sit.
and i cry.
i need chapstick. how could i forget chapstick?
you can't even handle the smallest tas-
please! can't you see i'm upset? how could you do this? and think it's okay? that things will go back to the way they were before you pulled this little stunt?
god, if only she'd answer!
golden retrievers, floral bedsheets, a ps4. ginger hair, kind words, a loving second mother. green walls and a white lamp.
how i long for her right now.
the pine needles are comfortable, though.
the highway ruins the sounds of the last birds singing.
a car drives by. time to leave.
feet step into the woods. maybe just looking at her house will make me feel better.
this is what makes sense to me.
i will smack the shit out of you, i swear to-
move the branches, find a clearer path.
avoid the thorns, everything looks so different without the summer leaves, doesn't it?
strategy.
and for a moment, i forget.
and then i see her house and the road and her window and her porch and i remember again.
and i wish for a second i didn't but then...
then i'm in her kitchen and we're making cookies and he's not here.
then we're watching tv in her living room and he is silent, half a mile down the road at my house.
then i'm in her room sleeping with her dog.
and then it's okay.
but then i realize that i'm not actually there. i'm imagining i am. i realize i'm just looking in through her window from the woods like a stalker. i realize i'm wearing red. i zip my coat up.
she's not there. she's somewhere else. but i need her here. i need her now, i need to forget the things he said to me.
please calm down, honey. take a deep breath.
and my phone buzzes,
and it's my mom.
and i tell her i'm okay.
and i walk through her yard to the main road, and then i walk to the neighborhood pond. and then i sit at the picnic table and cry some more.
then it starts raining a bit but i can't bring myself to care, as cliche as it sounds.
and moms telling to come home, that it's all okay now. but i know it won't be okay again.
i lick my lips but they feel more chapped with every breath i take. chapstick! i need chapstick! i'll go home to get some.
so i walk again through a little more mud then last time.
and when i walk into the house i don't say anything. i just grab what i needed, the relief of beeswax.
omg hi i'm so sorry! i was still in bed! i'm so sorry for missing you. what happened? are you okay?
oh. she was there after all.
