One.
4:04 AM,
“Dear Rose, I woke up today to the sound of my own crashing bones.
I opened my eyes to see how the oxygen I breathed had turned into none but heated black iron particles.
Every breath I inhaled rusted inside my lungs and layered on its insides.
Every breath I exhaled took an absolute naught out of my chest.
My left lung grew heavy with its pressure on the heart below it and squished it.
The fan on the ceiling moved confidentially in circles, striking the floating particles in my direction, having their heat cauterize my chest, not as if it was wounded, but as if my existence was a wound that harmed the harmony and peacefulness of the room.
My eyes filled up with bloody tears that carved its path on the shape of two question marks across the sides of my face.”
Two.
4:04 AM,
“Dear Rose,
I had guests staying over last night.
All unanswered questions in the world came to ridicule the existence of my naïve head.
I walked up to the mirror to welcome the guest thoughts that knocked on my broken eyelids and rested on the black bags beneath my eyes.
A hand ran across my messy hair straws and found its way to the two weeks old adolescent facial hair but it found no other hand to hold on to and shake.
My eyeballs scanned the mirror looking for the lopsided smile of my guest but there was only the picture of a disappointed man that mouthed:
“Not good enough, never good enough.””
Three.
4:04 AM,
4:04 AM,
“Dear Rose,
Today, rose, I used a highlighter on a book I was reading. I turned the side of the book behind the page I was reading, and I wrote a note with a pencil on the margins of it.
I haven’t had sleep in two days but I still fought the urge and the headache and I didn’t pour my morning coffee.
I shredded the pages of our scrapbook and I scratched black all the papers on which I sketched your face.
I put the colorful painting that hung on the insides of my cupboard door on fire and used the very same fire to light a cigarette that went and deoxygenated the very same chest that locked you dear between its rusted rips. I went ahead and filled that chest with black smoke to block any vision to your memories.
You once said that we’re over if I ever smoked. Are we over now?
I went ahead and cursed like a pirate in the sea and I expressed thoughts that defy every thought you and I shared. I changed my favorite book, favorite color, and wore my least favorite shirt.
I didn’t punctuate my letters for today, and I didn’t end my sentences with periods. I got rid of all habits, all except one, for today, when I checked on myself on the bathroom mirror, making sure it was myself…
I saw a person I did not recognize.”
Today, rose, I used a highlighter on a book I was reading. I turned the side of the book behind the page I was reading, and I wrote a note with a pencil on the margins of it.
I haven’t had sleep in two days but I still fought the urge and the headache and I didn’t pour my morning coffee.
I shredded the pages of our scrapbook and I scratched black all the papers on which I sketched your face.
I put the colorful painting that hung on the insides of my cupboard door on fire and used the very same fire to light a cigarette that went and deoxygenated the very same chest that locked you dear between its rusted rips. I went ahead and filled that chest with black smoke to block any vision to your memories.
You once said that we’re over if I ever smoked. Are we over now?
I went ahead and cursed like a pirate in the sea and I expressed thoughts that defy every thought you and I shared. I changed my favorite book, favorite color, and wore my least favorite shirt.
I didn’t punctuate my letters for today, and I didn’t end my sentences with periods. I got rid of all habits, all except one, for today, when I checked on myself on the bathroom mirror, making sure it was myself…
I saw a person I did not recognize.”
Four.
4:04 AM,
“Dear Rose,
I was always told to “Stretch my legs to my coffin length”.
Today when the sun of dawn rose from behind the mountain on the horizon, and I haven’t had sleep yet, I realized it was because I didn’t have a coffin to spread my legs to.
I got up today and for once I went further than my balcony, I spread my legs a bit further, and my sight went a bit away from the void your eyes locked me inside.
I flipped through a book of gardens that held pictures of lilacs, tulips, sunflowers, dahlias and every other flower a tree ever blossomed. Every flower except roses.
I didn’t run from the rain and I didn’t seek a shadow when the sun overwhelmed the roads at Twelve PM..
I didn’t stop to admire a rainbow from afar, but I followed its curved path to see if there really was a pot of gold at its end.
I closed my eyes and had seven significant thoughts, and dear, you weren’t one.
Today I grew too big for the bubble you put me in and I broke out and bungee jumped all my way down to heaven. A heaven where you don’t belong.”
I was always told to “Stretch my legs to my coffin length”.
Today when the sun of dawn rose from behind the mountain on the horizon, and I haven’t had sleep yet, I realized it was because I didn’t have a coffin to spread my legs to.
I got up today and for once I went further than my balcony, I spread my legs a bit further, and my sight went a bit away from the void your eyes locked me inside.
I flipped through a book of gardens that held pictures of lilacs, tulips, sunflowers, dahlias and every other flower a tree ever blossomed. Every flower except roses.
I didn’t run from the rain and I didn’t seek a shadow when the sun overwhelmed the roads at Twelve PM..
I didn’t stop to admire a rainbow from afar, but I followed its curved path to see if there really was a pot of gold at its end.
I closed my eyes and had seven significant thoughts, and dear, you weren’t one.
Today I grew too big for the bubble you put me in and I broke out and bungee jumped all my way down to heaven. A heaven where you don’t belong.”
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