Keep Art Alive :: Art by Danny Quirk
“So, throw us some flowers,
I’ll give you some songs and sunshine,
and if you give me an hour,
I’ll show you how you feel.”
He asks her to tell him how she feels, but no sooner does her lips part, mouth open, and words start forming that he turns his attention away, quick, just like a snap, or a short-lived insect buzzing by.
He says she needs therapy, that her head is a mess of things, and that he has no tools to fix her. But she never asked to be fixed, and she knows that the insides of her mind are fast moving, with levers and pulleys and emotional triggers, like a shotgun, all cocked and ready to take aim. But, it isn’t a mess, she knows where all the bullets are, and what all the buttons and wires do.
He says he wants to be inside her. She thinks he means he wants to see the mechanics and the mechanisms, that he wants to see how she functions, and how she feels. She grabs the knife to make the first cut, but he stops her and says “just open your legs.”
A minute longer she could have showed him all her truths, an hour more and she would have opened her world to him.