Young Writers Society

@blueafrica - for the prompt!

i remember sitting on a dinner table last saturday
consciousness, like a befallen bird, was slipping in and out of sight
the person i was lingered in the corner of the room
before vanishing.
my unrelenting mouth ran and ran and ran and my brain, exhausted, tripped
and fell over, hitting my chopsticks which flipped upside down in the soup bowl.

yes, the competition was over, but
that was only the end of a thousand beginnings -
for there was more come.

i lost sleep for what had happened that day
i cried for days to prepare for what happened that day
i stared at the wall, the clock reading eleven PM, for what happened that day
i asked what the pills were on my mother's nightstand for what happened that day

i hope it was worth it
was it?

i hope burning out will bring me future success
along with:
-taking a knife and carving out my very being
-strangling it with a twine rope
-beating it, twisting its thin neck
will let people recognize me for what i do.

i hope standing in front of a mirror,
-as an unrecognizable figure mocks me,
-as i realize an icy cage locks me
-as my mother, furious, talks to me
will make me a wiser, more experienced person.

this is what i wait for
this is what i pray for
this is what i play for
this is what i sing for
this is what i write for
this is who i die for -

look
at the person
that, through my pain,
i will never, for an eternity, become.

i remember sitting on the bus that same saturday
the girl i was shifted in front of me
my mind, however, disregarded her
grabbed his phone, and his phone, because i felt so goddamn fucking stupid
typed
laughed
and without a second thought, the girl and i let it all happen.