The Door

Authors note: This piece is dedicated to all of the silenced voices from the tragic tsunami in 2004, the world would have loved to hear your voices. 

Banging,

Thrashing,

Snapping; God reaches out his smooth hand

SWOOSH!

Tiny hands covering ears,

Thin salty lips;

Screaming “DADDY DON’T GO”

BANG!

God opens the smooth white door,

His hairy arms stretch forward;

Signaling the route up the worn squeaky stairs.

POW!

Shaking fingers slip,

Leaving clammy hands with no strength;

No strength to stay alive.

Fake

Deadly harsh comments slyly slip away from your twisted tounge. As my heart slowly beats to a stop the sinister words escape past your overly chap lips, 'You're fake.'

Beep, Beep! As my devilish alarm clock hisses at me I pry my own eyes open to stare directly at my drab ceiling. The only thing pulling me out of heavenly bed is the way my heart wrenches at me from knowing that I'm going to see you and your perfect face the second that I arrive into the school.

Although I've stared at myself many times in my elongated mirror I always find a major flaw lurking around my face so I proceed to pull out my weathered makeup bag with a sticker of a flawless Barbie on the side. As I slowly unzip the dull silver zipper I pull out my foundation primer and unscrew the black cap. The smooth gel slides along my skin creating a solid brick wall protecting my gentle skin from your harsh comments. Following that I conceal away my blemishes; or am I just concealing the ridged scars left behind by every fowl comment thrust upon me?  Each step of my makeup routine covers up something about me. I slather my foundation around my face rubbing vigorously, trying to erase all of scars. I have applied a mask over not only my skin but my soul as well! Who am I? Am I Lauren or am I just a pale face in the crowd? My whole life I have hid behind this appealing mask; trying to please people as I go. I have strived for the ultimate perfection yet no one can achieve it. Quivering in front of my elongated mirror I stare in disbelief; I am me!

I wore that mask too somehow believe that hiding myself would enhance me. Although I still reminisce on the days where 'me' meant somebody else I have gained the strength to burn the mask like a block of wood in warm bon-fire on a breezy autumn day. Why move along in life trying to be something that you are not? We were born as complex individuals and will stay that way until the day that our beating hearts cease.

Fists of Memories

Do you remember,
the chilled air in November?
The autumn breeze wrapped us in blankets
as we held our breath and closed our eyes.
Do you recall that,
we thought it would all last forever?
The days of our youth and the bitter weather
combined with the love that we wore on our naive chests.
But all good things must end.
And do you remember
watching the sun set together?
The rays of the sun lit up every last one of the memories we held in our fists.
Do you recall that
we always swore that we would never forget?
All those days and weather that led us to display our love on our chests.
But all good things must end.
And we both know
that we were just making the poorest excuses
like we all do
just to feel like we have something solid
to hold on to.