March 19, 2008
By Theresa Meyer, Cincinnati, OH

I have built my own personal Jericho. The walls will crumble, but for now I hide. For now they stand. I collect my things in my suitcase and place it by the door to run. Waiting patiently until the walls come down.

She will run. She will run, but not for cowardice. No, for she is not lying, suffering, or stagnating. She creates her form of self-salvation, in the darkest shade of the night sky. She pulls herself to kitchen counters and practices methods of self-destruction. You'll never see her. Elusive and quiet, she will not be found. Shaky hands and blurry eyes, the colors of her torment. She does not eat, she does not sleep.

More to this, there is something more to this. Ice is clinging to the branches in the town. Winter reminds me why we're alive. I want to cut off all my hair, watch it fall to the bathroom floor. Tell the girl to get out before its too late. She'll swivel on the chair, watch the brown hair fall. Listen and I fight. "Why are you unhappy? Why don't you eat? Where is your medication going? Who are you, anymore?" "You don't have to deal with me, you know you don't." "I know I don't." Commence with awkward silence, because we both know it's my fault. It is, after all. Hair falling to the bathroom floor like feathers...


Explain something to me. Sit down, put away your hesitations, and look me in the eye. Don't blink. I want to see if I can look right through you. Let me hold your hand. Let me encircle your wrist with my fingers and let me touch the fabric of your sleeves. I'm tired of a world, where we condemn all that we don't understand. Tell me why we do these things, and then let's fall deep into each other. There's a part of me that loves you, and the other part of me doesn't understand why.
Explain to me why I am laying shattered on the floor. I want you to explain... why don't we seem to care? I want to pierce right through you. I want to gather up all of your strength. Beauty frightens us, but you don't even know how astonishing you are. We have drawn a white line in the sand. I'm standing barefoot on one side, and the sun is setting over your shoulder. Neither of us move. I can't raise my voice. I don't even understand what you want me to say, because all the things I've said have been so far from enough.
I can barely look at you. I'm afraid your smiles are a quiet way of breaking. If I cross the line, I'm scared that you'll run for your life. I want to sit in the corner of a dark room and breathe. I would love it if you counted my flaws and revealed my manipulative nature. We can be ghosts. We can look through one another and be able to see the veins running under each other's skin. I will trace the outline of your face in the mirror with my eyes closed. Intimacy is entirely non-physical.
They don't see that there's no need for razors or self-mutilation, even if our human tendencies guide us like a light to it. The empty black sky is all I need. It's torture enough. I want someone with me on the nights that I can't breathe. A lover to take me home. I want to fall asleep next to someone. I want to watch them breathe and see the steady movement of their chest. I need an anchor, someone to hold to before I'm taken away.
Let's be different, let's live. Let's not walk in that mundane fashion. I know that our bones hurt and our hearts ache and our mouths can't form the right words. I know that you're weak, and you're looking for that salvation you think you'll never find. I know that you believe that you're hopeless and locked onto the concrete earth. But you're beautiful. You're enough.
The line is drawn in the sand, and clearly defined. But I want to wind you like a clock. I want you to take one step closer, and I want you to listen. I want to accomplish a great something. I want to dissolve into you. I want beauty to become something that is made. We can form it in our hands and give it wings. We can do something, anything, to be remembered, only because we can't imagine anything worse than being forgotten.

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