four. something awful happened.

forty minute drive,

the entirety of it spent picking at scabs

and gnawing on your bottom lip,

not really looking forward

to the destination,

not really enjoying the drive.

pull in hastily

and rest your forehead against the steering wheel,

clouding eyes remembering

what you'd been yearning to forget.

lock the door and climb the steps,

stand outside the door

with the crooked twelve,

mustering and capturing courage

that you're not sure you're able to.

a hesitant knock

and you feel like fleeing,

wondering how quickly you can leave the building,

how fast you can make it down that flight of stairs,

how likely it would be for him to not see y-

and then you hear the creaking of the door

and take a breath,

and fragments of imagined situations

of what must have happened that afternoon

flash past your eyes

and you feel like collapsing then and there

and sobbing until there's nothing left inside

nothing left for you to cry about,

no thoughts of her in his or your mind.

you want to weep yourself free of this situation.

and step inside.

Reviews

[OT]

ooo a sad write here - poignant - the drive - the anticipation and fear - teh gnawing of a lip - picking at scabs and mental scabs as we all do - as supported by the later imagined situations - the what happends - as the mind runs off picking at those scabs - to weep yourself out of the situation - I like that notion - not literally lol but the idea of it - perhaps one many cling to - as if the tears can be some sort of purge - and then after all that you step inside... hmm it makes us wonder where you're going - and lets us wander off on our own little story! nice!