Retribution. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

December 10, 2010
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It's weird,
the way you look
when you can't see.

Eyelids slightly tightened,
trying to will
the blurs into crisp contours.

Someone who knows you
smiles as they pass,
but there's no recognition
in your eyes.

Dark shadows
make broad suggestions
of human faces.

Organic blocks of color
wobble through the currents,
alternating their weight
from one foot to the other.

Your retinas begin to burn
as your brain strains
to make sense of the madness:
it knows
there's something wrong.

So you close your eyes.

Blackness.

Blackness, not darkness.

For even when you shield
your mind from vision,
it tries to make sense of
the Black.
You hear the chatter of people
surrounding you,
and the value in the Blackness
turns Red,
intricate roads of hazy Red
guiding you to the unknown.

The chatter of the world intensifies.
Not because it has gotten louder
but because your mind is
looking for meaning.

How long can you sit
with your eyes closed,
vulnerable to the will of others
before
the fear
sets in?

When your mind
can't rely on anything else
a slow
festering
begins to rise.

You slowly
fear
your very existence.

As the steam
rises,
it beats against your eyelids,
pressure,
too much
to bear.

Open your eyes.
Open
your
lies.

You see just the same as before.
Stand and walk home,
stomach full
and life unaltered.

Next time,
don't
fear
the Blackness.

Just follow the Red.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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Playtious said...
Oct. 1, 2011 at 11:37 pm
It is a wonderful example of embrassing the part of us we would like to not think about but is always there.  Very good.
 
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