By Hannah N
There was a body right next to an old apartment building with dusty red colored bricks, and a rotted iron fire escape scaling along the outside. The body lay on the gray sidewalk, lifeless as the concrete, almost blending in.
A few people stopped and called 911
Maybe let out a stray concerned glance or two
a feigning and yielding care whispered ever so softly
but most just walked past it
Maybe it was just too good of a day to spoil
The death made it's way to the paper, spun out a few sighs; a few “we need to be better” speeches from public officials until its relevance was lost
Maybe there were better stories to tell
Sometimes I think about what you don’t see. what our eyes miss as they race to capture everything at once
Did we miss the tears, or blankness in their stares as if they were stuck in longing?
Did we miss the lonely nights on the fire escape, then alone grasping their hands together; praying for forgiveness?
Did we not see them in the bathroom mirror as they held their chest down so they could love themselves more?
Did we miss the wavering voice, mistaken, hiding a thousand words they didn’t know how to say?
A forced smile holds a thousand pains, a thousand lies, a thousand flecks of denial
But is it not the denial that keeps them going?
Denial so everyone else can rest easy, paint the days in a brighter light, to make it through the dark.
But what happens when we see through ourselves?
When the paint starts to chip, and the tears begin to rust
There's only so much wear and tear you can ignore
Did we miss the pleads behind salutations and goodbyes?
The stories behind stories?
The distractions of falsehoods?
The helplessness in the silence?
maybe you did, maybe we all did
When a safe place turns gray, where can you go?
When your body betrays what the mind's yearning, how do you run away free?
When you wish for your eyes to bleed out the pain, how do you stay?
How do people expect me to stay?
I like to think about all that I miss in a day. The small blinks that people mindlessly complete. The subtle smirks and soft laughter, that spell i love you. The messages behind touches, like Morse code against my skin.
moments before I left the fire escape I thought about those moments once more. Like a final goodbye into the silent night. Like a soft apology for leaving. I'm sorry. I’m sorry if I missed the love in your eyes for me. I’m sorry that it wasn’t enough.
Sometimes you miss so much.