The Sun is High

The sun is high, slowly jogging along in its journey downwards, ripening and becoming ready to be eaten by the river. The bridge cuts across the water in a violation with its tall cements columns, jagged and violent as the cars rush across.

The pedestrians scurry to and fro along the walkways on the sides. She wobbles slowly as she travels forward. Everyone travels forward for a bridge is not a place of resting.

She wishes that God would cry for her in her actions, she wishes for the rain to fall and make the river swell, pregnant with unwanted children that the rain has bestowed her.

She wishes for fantasy.

Fantasy will not come though. This is a forgotten reality besieged by the pride of immortality worn by the young, for it could never happen to them.

God’s a bastard though. The rain would not fall and give the river the suffering that is rightly hers.

She leans against the railing, hands wrapped around the metal bar to keep her away. The wind whips and stings, sending her hair and clothes sailing in an attempt to escape her body. She lolls and sinks down on to the sidewalk, a puddle of flesh, bone and cloth as the people curse and step around her.

“Are you alright?”

“Do you feel sick?”

“Where do you live?”

“Do you need any help?”

She shakes her head. There’s no room for tears. There’s room for tears. She’s still lying. She’s lying.

Guilty.

Hypocritical.

The sun is high and she pulls herself up. The people around her scatter and regroup, chattering away in a language she once understood but no longer cares about.

She grips the railing.

The sun is high and blinding as it curves around the sky, a missile aiming for it’s false end for it never does hit its target.

She can hear his voice whispering that nothing would happen, that he would take responsibility; that he would be there.

She is alone, still wearing the silver ring on her left hand and a broken promise stamped across her chest.

She’s failed.

The cars roar past, never stopping. One driver turns and in shock loses control. There’s a swerve, a crash and a halt as time breaks.

All you can hear are the screams of the living as she throws herself over the railing into the river, arms open, waiting to accept her child.

cologne

i can still feel his arm around my shoulder, his hand in mine, the feeling of my body next to his on the couch and i am fucking empty without it. yesterday's sweater was the first thing i put back on, then the red skirt without any shorts underneath, for his scent is still clinging to my body.
and when i inhale i'll remember him, his scent and the sensation that i should be climbing into him, my hands in his hair, my mouth on his neck. the restraint of being in the car with him, the casual movements he makes with his hands as he talks, his cologne faint in the space between us as i lick my lips, my mouth dry and wanting.
it takes all i have not to jump him.

watching

somebody tell me if nothing in this body is sacred, the drum of a pulse beneath my wrist, the gasp of air between my teeth as i attempt to swallow any type of reaction down in hopes that it will cling hard enough to my ribs to remain with me even after the fact of this is over.
and i can't do that, rock my weight forward, grab the collar of his shirt as i attempt to climb the sides of his body, open the edges of my heart and pitch the blood forward to the rush between my ears. even if his hands are on me, a faint trace along the underside of my shirt, a curve of a palm against my neck, salt kisses against my lips, no matter how badly i want this, need this, desire this.
i am unable to if you are watching.

live wire

it's normally between
the hours of 10 and 3 am
when i can feel the pulse of the city
a live wire across my skin
while i stare out into the darkness
not yet at the point where i miss the stars
since there are so many lights
burning brightly tonight

and i'm finding it harder and harder
to breathe
the air still beneath my fingers
as i raise my arms
rake my fingers through my hair in frustration
against the empty promises
of the night

cause i would like for it to fill me
blacken smoke across my teeth
a whisper of a sweat along
the back of my neck
and the slow pressure of your fingers
digging into my arms with each bite
and grip as you drag me towards you

for there is no way to fill this
puncture this desire
scratch the itch of desperate touch
free from shallow winds
while the city shines coldly
electric from the third floor
and on the other side of my window

i have nobody here to ask
to touch me

finally

i am now used to the weight of these bones,
and the grind of my body in moment,
the creak and the stretch
as i raise my arms above my head,
rock backwards, balance tipping
in an attempt to evenly regain myself.
and i am happy.
so smile, laugh widely at my face in the mirror,
hand on my hip as i turn,
tilt sideways, cock a cheeky grin
at the girl looking back at me.
for now when you tell me, i look fucking great,
i am finally able to believe you.

never stop

motherfucker.
if i asked you to bite me,
would you?
i bet it'd taste sweet
on the way down, the scrape
of your teeth along the curve
of my neck while i inhale
your scent, gasp inward
and thread my fingers
through your hair,
just so i can attempt to pull you
closer than can be physically possible,
as if i could force you into me
so then this...
would never stop.

Kiss and Never Tell

Yoselin parked off to the side of the road and I got out of the car. I had a cell phone that I barely knew how to use in my pants pocket. “I’ll see you in two hours.” she said and the car pulled away, leaving me there.

She’d dropped me on the picnic grounds and I needed to find you. You would be up river at our usual stop. With a sigh I jumped up onto one of the tables and started walking north. I played a game like I’d done when I was younger; I jumped from rocks to logs, trying not to touch the ground.

It was a stupid game but it took my mind off you. Once I ran out of things to walk on, I started counting trees, birds and any other object that caught my eyes.

It took me about twenty minutes to reach you and by then my head was full of numbers. That’s not the greatest combination because I’m barely passing math 11.

Your bike was parked in the bushed and you shoes, coat and shirt formed a pile on the sand. You’d rolled up your jeans and were standing in the water, skipping stones along the surface.

I stood there, not knowing what to say, not after what I’d done to you. I hate apologizing because it acknowledges the fact that I was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with that but an apology has the implication that I screwed up tacked onto it as well.

In the end I didn’t need to say anything. I stepped on a loose stone and tripped, falling flat on my face causing an amusing spectacle, announcing my presence to the world. It sounds like something out of a lame movie but contrary to popular belief all lame movies are real.

“What are you doing Jules?” you asked as you stepped out of the water and quickly put your shirt on. The act was almost feminine as if you felt you were exposing too much to me.

And who the hell decided that femininity was passive and masculinity was dominant? Remind me to shoot them.

“I’m repenting.” I sighed as I pulled myself up and dusted sand and dirt off the designer jeans Tierney had dressed me in. She’d kill me once she saw the stains I was now sporting.

You said nothing and neither did I; we just stared at each other. There was no electrical current like in those cheesy romance novels Tiffany’s got stuffed under her bed. All I could feel between us was guilt.

“Jules don’t do this to me.” you whispered and I felt my body jump. I don’t think you saw it though because your hand was covering your face.

“Do what?” I asked.

“Don’t come and ask that we go back to how we used to be,” you groaned, “You know I can’t do that.”

“I’m not asking for that!” I yelled as I spun around and grabbed hold of your arms. My voice sounded too loud and broken in my ears with an anxious hitch in it.

“What are you asking for then?” you asked. The look on your face told me that you were no longer expecting anything from me. I could feel the twitching in your arms beneath my fingers as if I was causing you an immense physical pain.

“Look at me!” I commanded and I felt my voice break. “Do you love me?”

“Jules I thought we’d been over this.” Your voice was harsh and annoyed as you snapped back at me.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Jules - “

“How do you know Alex?” I yelled.

“Jules let go!” I felt your arms wrench away from me and I pitched forward and hit the ground hard.

I looked up at you and saw my reflection in your eyes. It was the image of a woman’s face torn in half, twisted in pain, jealousy, rage and sadness.

“I don’t get this Alex!” I yelled, screaming almost. “I don’t get how you managed to figure out your feelings and conveniently place a label on them, forcing me to make a decision. It’s not fair you know!”

You just stood there not moving, I think you might have been unable to. I felt the tears well up in my eyes and the sick, sticky feeling they create as they ran down my cheeks.

“I’m blaming you Alex.” I muttered between the sobs that were wracking my body.

“Blaming me for what?” you asked. I hadn’t even noticed were you’d dropped down to sit beside me.

“Quit acting cool,” I said and I felt the sobs and gasping between tears starting up again. You caught my face between your hands and forced me to look at you.

“Don’t,” I muttered, “Don’t look at me.” I wiped the tears out of my eyes and the snot off my nose with my sleeve.

“Please,” I begged, all caution suddenly lost, “Don’t ever leave me again!”

This is the obvious part in the story where the guy takes the girl into his arms and kisses her. You made no move to do that and neither did I. To be honest I think we were both frozen from shock, you from my sudden, confusing confession and me from the fact that I’d just told you everything.

“You know one of us is going to have to move at some point.” I whispered.

“What if I don’t want to move?” you asked.

“Then I will,” I laughed, “My butt is getting numb.” You smiled and ran you fingers through my hair. I don’t think you meant it to be seductive, just comforting. Unfortunately, it was a little of both.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” I asked and I think you stopped breathing then.

“What?” you managed to choke out.

“That’s usually what happens in cheesy romance novels.”

“What have you been reading?” you asked.

“The books under Tiffany’s bed.” I replied.

“I think the question is whether or not you love me Jules?” you whispered.

“I think I do.” I replied, my voice catching as I stumbled over the words.

“You think?”

“Alex can you tell me what love is?” I asked, “I can’t ever remember someone saying they loved me.”

“I love you,” you said.

“How do I know you’re not lying though?” I begged. All remains of my pride were gone and I was begging you to reassure my fears as false.

“Because you’re all I think about,” My breath caught and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest.

“That’s a really, really cheesy line you know,” I muttered. I could feel the blush creeping along my face. When I go red it makes it look like I’m dying of exhaustion, creating a perfect tomato impression.

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I know.” Somehow I managed to gain an immense amount of courage and I slowly lifted your hand from my face and laced my fingers through yours.

“That took a lot of courage you know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, “So why don't you muster up some courage and kiss me?”

I closed my eyes and waited nervously, partially because I was afraid to see your reaction. I felt your free hand move up and slowly grasp my shoulder. I could feel your fingers slowly squeeze mine and then your lips pressed against my mouth.

My hand went up to grasp hold of your shirt because I didn’t know what to do. I tightened my fingers in yours looking for a type of reassurance.

Your grip on me was almost too tight and I could feel your teeth bump against mine. Neither of us knew what we were doing. It was still the closest thing to romance that I’d experienced.

After you let go, we just sat together on the sand. We made no moves to unlock our hands and said nothing. We stayed like that for ages.

After I left you and climbed back into Yoselin’s car and making you promise to go to school tomorrow, I realized something.

That was the first time you kissed me and that was surprising. You’d never even tried to kiss me, not even when we’d slept together.