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Keep Art Alive :: “Wednesday” :: Art by Stella Im Hultberg

When Hell Freezes Over
(by me)

I am here again,
waking up with my eyes closed,
back between the blue walls,
canopy bed,
three books stuffed under my pillow,
a flashlight,
my giant Holly Hobby blanket.

I feel so cold.

Colder than that night in Odallis’ pickup truck,
racing back from that Ska show,
rain turning to slaps,
on my cheeks.

I look to the door,
by my dresser,
and my cracked piggy bank.

Save pennies to escape with.

He is there,
always there,
a shadow in the doorway,
breath cutting through a childhood lullaby,
stepping forward,
all arms and hands and poison arrows.

Make it go away,
make it go away,
make it go away.

Stop,
he is stopped,
he is slowly turning blue,
cracks of ice cut his lips,
his eyes filling with glass shards,
steam escapes from his ears,
his mouth,
his words,
him.

I look at my hands,
they are not the hands from then,
from before.

Bigger,
stronger,
faster,
mine.

The hands of a survivor.

I shoot crystals from the tips of my fingers,
they break the windows,
scratch the paint,
rip at the posters,
the paintings,
the walls themselves,
fall.

Break,
crumble,
die.

You will never have this again,
you will never have this again,
you will never have this again.

Wake up.

Warmth,
kitten fur stuck to my cheek,
your arm thrown carelessly,
across my waist,
baby breath,
close to me.

Never again.

Wake Up :: Arcade Fire

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