You’re beautiful, do you know? Your face turns toward the sun It seems to greet you

You smile And the earth smiles back

Is it out of love or fear? I don’t think you will ever know Adoration twists just as easily as anything

Heat bites at you with its sharp, sharp fangs The sun’s smile becomes a snarl Does your own smile falter? Does the fear of the world stifle your beauty? I think it is the source of it

They burn you on the darkest night Flames so high they could touch the sun that scorned you Loved you then left you But they choke on the plumes of smoke

You’re beautiful But one touch could kill And it does so with a smile

“It’s been a while.”

“…”

“Where have you been? I missed you.”

“Not everything is for you to know.” __ __ “Maybe. Maybe this should have been.”

“…” __ __ “Do you ever feel guilty?”

“About what?”

“…Nevermind.”

“If you’re just here to berate me, then leave. Give a dying person peace.” __ __ “Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Dying.”

“It feels like I am.”

“Oh.”

“…” __ __ “What does it feel like?”

“To die?” __ __ “Yes.”

“It feels like something is catching up to me.” __ __ “I can only pray it’s your past.”

“That isn’t fair.” __ __ “…”

“We all make mistakes. Mine just seemed to affect you the most.” __ __ “That’s because I loved you.”

“…” __ __ “Don’t act like you didn’t know.” __ “Don’t act like you still know me.”

“…”

“Was it you or I that stopped reaching out?” __ __ “Does it matter? Wouldn’t we still be here, all these years later, you on your deathbed? Would any of it have mattered if you knew?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then why do you ask?”

“I suppose questions are natural of someone who’s about to lose every chance of getting them answered.” __ __ “So you’ve lost hope, then.”

“I don’t have any choice.” __ __ “Don’t you want to fight? Don’t you care any longer? Don’t you remember what it felt like to want to have a choice?”

“I have forgotten.”

You’re silent, nowadays But I see the question in your eyes: Can we ever come back from this, Will it ever feel alike?

They don’t know how it feels To be half of a soul To grow up with someone Then be left with this gaping hole

I used to think I knew you More than anyone I cared for you when no one else would I made you my sun

But your question still burns And I’m the target of your ire I would be anything for you (But I won’t be a liar)

We’re walking I haven’t been alone with you for months I miss you

I almost say it, but I feel it again— The cold hand in my gut that reminds me we aren’t talking So we don’t talk

I know I am dreaming You don’t look me in the eyes like this when I’m awake You don’t give me a chance when we’re awake You don’t admit you did anything to hurt me when you’re awake But you did And what you did will haunt me forever

And you don’t even know it You’re angry with me I almost laugh at the absurdity of it all But the cold hand reaches around my throat just in time

Our innocence faded far too fast Did we walk down the misty path with haste? Or have we simply grown out of each other like our childhood clothes?

Worn and loved But so tired

We’re walking You reach out your hand to mine A peace offering

I want to take it But what you did will haunt me forever So I walk alone

You were the best thing that I never had The hope for my future that lingers and lingers I kept a white-knuckle grip on my ideal of you As I wished the strength would slip out of my fingers

But your presence was truly intoxicating The way your smile and laugh lit up every room I still can’t tell if I was imagining it all Caught up in a haze of my infatuation with you

Is it wrong to look back and think of you with anger? Is it worse to look back and feel love? Was I insane to weave my whole life around you? Was I stupid to think I’d ever be enough?

You hurt more than helped, despite what I imagined Being only my best for you started to take a toll But I know my pain was the result of my naivety And the belief that I’ll ever be a part of a whole

The only way to escape was to take out the scissors Cut slowly around your essence Piece my life back together heartache by heartache Until normal feels less like your presence

I didn’t know how To say what I wanted to Without messing up

That was my excuse To break off the eye contact And say something else

I’d change the subject The thing I wanted to say Was far too scary

But I would still dream Of a world where I was brave And I had said it

You had smiled, not frowned You said “me too,” not “why me?” And I was happy

But when I woke up I saw how you really felt And I stopped dreaming

I tried not to cry I didn’t say “I love you” And I never will

I don’t remember waking up for the first time With wide eyes eager to explore the new world When I didn’t know why the sun rose every morning But I played in it until I couldn’t anymore And I was tucked into bed The glow of the nightlight was all I needed to scare away the monsters Until sleep took over

I remember waking up again And realizing the world was a cruel place And I wasn’t as kind or smart or pretty as I always thought I was But the sun rose every morning, even when I wished it wouldn’t I wanted to play in it like I used to But when I tucked myself into bed The nightlight wasn’t there to scare away the monsters And they attacked relentlessly all night long

Now I wake up every morning Even on the mornings I wish I didn’t And I know more about the world than I used to I know why the sun rises And how horrible and beautiful the world can be, sometimes simultaneously Maybe I don’t play like I used to Maybe I am sadder and less confident than I used to be But I am wiser and stronger now And one day when I might tuck my children into bed I’ll remind them that when the monsters try to attack To remember that they are only in their heads

The color of gemstones and bluebirds and skies the color of me and both my parents’ eyes

A color found in the depth of oceans so deep and the color of sadness and calmness and sleep

Blueberries and sapphires, morpho butterflies the color of bluejays that fly through the skies

The color of that shirt I wore some time ago the hue of the nightlight that once showed its glow

And the color of an almost-forgotten time a time when that color was a favorite of mine

I’ve always hated this cold, white room with its cold people and cold floors. My paws ache, even though I am not walking but being carried. It seems everything has been aching recently.

I let out a soft whimper as my person sets me down gently on the cold, white table. She mumbles a quiet sound of reassurance, and it’s just enough to make my tail thump against the cold, white surface. I think she notices.

The people talk amongst themselves for an agonizingly long time as I shiver on the table. Why was everything cold? I feel better when my human comes closer to give me a short hug, but the feeling that she leaves behind has a bittersweet taste. I don’t understand the words that leave her mouth next, but they seem serious and genuine. I whimper again when she finally lets a tear fall down her flushed cheek.

Licking the tear away with a brief taste of salt in my mouth, I give her a doggy smile. I only wanted to cheer her up, but it just made her cry even harder. I wonder what is wrong and how I can make it better.

I realize the cold, white human my person had been talking to had come up behind me while I was doing this, and pricked me with some sort of weird claw. Feeling too weak to whine, I simply look at my person. She cries even harder.

I continue to lick her face, trying to take away all her tears that are coming out almost too quickly for me to lick away. She gives me a fierce hug, which I accept with a couple wags of my tail.

The coldness and whiteness of the room suddenly don’t feel as important. All that is important is that I’m here, with my person, in this moment. I think it is important to her as well. It’s still a bit over my head, but I think I know what is happening.

I lay down on the cold, white table, and let the warm darkness slowly take me. I hope my person knows that I love her.

I think she does know.

The sound of an explosion was faintly heard outside of Ms. Jones’s room, and promptly several students screamed.

“NO ONE PANIC.” Ms. Jones ordered, while everyone began to panic. Mrs. Forbes frowned slightly and took a couple steps closer to the ominously closed door, listening in on the drama.

Of course it was the new teacher. Mrs. Forbes had been at this school for many years, and every time a new teacher was hired it took them a couple years to figure out how to run a classroom without blowing anything up or losing a student.

Mrs. Forbes hesitantly knocked on the door, dreading what would await her on the inside. When she got no answer except for the continuing noises of panic, she opened the door forcefully.

Everyone seemed to freeze the second the door opened with a soft thud. “H-Hello, Mrs. Forbes!” a nervous Ms. Jones stammered from the center of the room. The students, the desks, the teacher, the walls, and miraculously the ceiling were completely covered in some sort of goo. A cloud of smoke surrounded the desk, framing the centerpiece of this whole dumpster fire perfectly: a simple test tube sitting placidly half-full of a pale green mixture.

Mrs. Forbes let out a long, weary sigh. “The cleaning supplies are in the janitor’s closet.”

Ms. Jones smiled thankfully as she and her goo-covered students began a trip to the janitor’s closet. “And no more playing with chemistry! You teach English!” Mrs. Forbes yelled after her.