Alone

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My skin is being peeled off my body and not in the sun-burnt kind of way.

Its sharp and every contact is excruciatingly painful.

This is why I will my eyes to open.

It takes them time to adjust.

Too bright. Too hot.

Pain.

And then I know.

The cause of my misery.

I try my best to shield and swat.

But those damn birds are insistent.

And that is when I notice my surroundings.

Just like that I’m afraid to ask, “Where the hell am I?”

A dozen thoughts race through my head that make it spin.

I pinch my raw skin just to see if it were a dream but nothing changes.

Nowhere in sight do I see any semblance of life.

The sweat trickles down every part of my body and the saltiness too feels foreign. I try to rationalize and retrace my steps but just like that I have no steps to trace. No indication of a past life.

This place of scorching heat where every step felt like walking in a furnace. Where the wind did a poor job in cooling the air around and instead blew angry, hot gusts of dust in the face. This place so barren that no life could ever withstand it.

 

The birds are circling above me waiting for the moment that I fall and faint. Thanks for the vote of confidence.

I start considering the many possibilities. Could this be some kind of joke? Albeit it lacked any sense of humor. Revenge? But I couldn’t recall any enemies. Hell, I couldn’t recall anything. Reality TV? Get a kick out of watching other people suffer.

It’s not too long before the tears start falling and I’m a hysterical mess. Yeah, don’t put me in such situations. I fall to my knees and beat the ground in frustration.

Stop crying.

You need to preserve every ounce of water.

And just like that I stop.

Get up.

Walk.

My body has a mind of its own.

In the eyes of the beholder

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She fumbles with her ice blue dress. Her fingers shake as she bites down on her lip to silence a sob. Mascara stains her rosy cheeks and she tastes blood from biting down to hard.

This blasted dress needs to come off.
Her hair needs to escape its perfect placement.
Nothing about this night seems hopeful.
Nothing about this night seems happy anymore.

The dress clings to her body and she wants to tear it apart. Just to get it off. Because nothing about this night seems right. Everything suddenly seems wrong.

Why did she ever think that she looked pretty?
Clearly no one else thought so.
Why did she put in so much effort?
When not a single eye wandered her way, all night.

Because somewhere in her heart she hopes to be beautiful. To be the one that steals breaths with every step she takes, and locks them away. Never to be returned. She wants to maybe tell her daughter someday that she was beautiful.

Life is a work-in-progress.
Soon none of these things matter anymore.
And all you want to do is show up in your pjs.
Who wants to put so much effort anyway?

That night was the worst. A memory that would never fade even if she tried. That dress still hangs in her closet even though all she wants to do is burn it along with all the painful memories.

But life doesn’t work that way.