Keep Art Alive:: “Obey” :: Art by Joe Chiodo
“I broke down and wrote you back,
before you had a chance to.
Forget, forgotten, I am moving past this,
I have to go.
Yes, I know the feeling,
know you’re leaving.”
The night falls, as they say, and she watches the city blow past, like so much cigarette smoke exhaled. Jane is mulling it over, meandering around memory and reality as the wheels spin beneath the rented escape pod, painted yellow like cowardice, like where she sees them now. She knew the risks, the chances, knew that part of her lied when she whispered “I can handle this“, like a prayer, to her sacred heart. Jane swore she would be alright, that she would land on her feet, ending up on the other side of the street, unscathed.
She hides her bleeding hands by their constant movement. She hides the scathing, the bruising, the broken pieces inside her skin by running, running far away.
Someday, Jane determines, the walls will build back up around her. Her skin will thicken until her heart is protected (again). She knows that it will be ages before it thaws again, before she lets anyone have at her that way again. Those will be the days where she will feel the impact of this moving on, until then, actions will need to scream louder than emotion. Until then she must keep it all in the shadows behind her.
“It was all just another lie I tell myself to get by“, she half-sings to no one in particular. The cabbie, he nods in what could be mistaken as agreement, but is probably just a kept up beat to his “where I’m from” music that plays out of the statically charged speakers.
Jane has her own certain songs from her internal homeland, the ones that can always rip her wide, kicking down her newly built walls, brick by brick. She knows she needs to get on with it, that it is far past her time to go on without this “thing“, whatever it was. She’s not sure she knows anymore what it was, or who he was, at all.
Another lit cigarette, another building past, Jane thinks a new city will do her well. Maybe a new name, as well.