Dandelions

December 8, 2007
By
Alice is a dreamer
She shies away from her peers and dreams up big elaborate dreams of her soaring through the air looking down on everyone who once looked down on her
She is weightless and free and finally happy
Alice loves the sky. She wants to fly
She is petite and looks like a rag doll but she knows her voice can break barriers
She loves to eat the oranges that she picks from the tree in front of her house
The juice that squirts out between her fingers make her hands sticky and when she sucks on her fingers she tastes sweet because she is
Her skin is flawless except for the scar she has on her face from where her father hit her
But it’s all right because it doesn’t hurt anymore
After she recites her prayers and her family is asleep, Alice climbs out of her window and to the neighbor boy’s house
He takes out a syringe and injects something into her hip
It’s supposed to make her feel alive but she’s never felt so dead
She pays him his money and crawls back out the window, not quite sure what to make of herself.
She doesn’t think she can make it back inside her room so she lies down on the grass
Her world is shaking and she wants it to stop
She picks a dandelion and makes a wish
Alice wishes that she were flying so high that she couldn’t feel anything, not the aching in her heart or the one that was slowly consuming her body
The white seeds dance and twirl in the air then gently fall to the ground
She’s dry and deviated and despondent and desperate
But dandelions can’t save her now





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback