The rules remain a mystery :: SOTD


Keep Art Alive :: Art by Laura Grace Rafferty

Hey what’s that you say?
You’re not blaming me for anything,
well that’s great,
but I don’t break that easy.”

Every word left a bruise, every promise broken a scar. Alice tries to call them tattoos, love marks, chapters of her story, but those in the know, well they know they are indicators of the damage done. She wraps herself in bed sheets, blood stained to only her eyes; she sees it like Lady Macbeth’s hands, but she hides in it instead of wringing them together. The red is proof it happened, that she was there, that blood was shed.

Alice falls down the stairs, head over feet, until she hits solid ground. Alex finds her there, lifeless and body bent, spent, without light or laughter. His small hands try to lift her, his thin arms shaking as he wraps them around her, pulling her close. He whispers magic words that only they would know, from their childhood, from their past, from that place that no one talks about anymore. She stirs, her eyes flutter like moth wings, like butterflies, and he leaves then, disappearing into vapor smoke, into the dust bowl disaster of this house.

Alice will wake with the deja vu echoes of his words, like after a dream. He is always in her dreams, and she is always left with absolutely nothing.

Absolutely Zero :: Jason Mraz

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