Stage Lights On

The red hue of light, easy on the eyes but painful on the mind; time’s almost up. The walls seem to close in, yet you still phase through them, entering the next world and pulling your hair out. Single strands at first, until you can no longer see your hands amidst the clutter of blood and hair. Meanwhile, the scum just sits there and stares blankly into your burning soul. They wonder if you’ll ever be able to make them laugh even though every morsel of humor was ripped out of their bones mere moments before they ripped your heart from your chest.

A puddle forming on your red shirt grows larger and larger until it joins the lakes beneath your arms. You pray it’s just sweat but the red glow from your cheeks tells the scum everything it needs to know. They think you’re weak, they think they broke you, they think they saw your hopes and dreams mixing with the salt water under your arms. They think they know you.

Yet, that pool of water on your chest isn’t one of shame for the failed thoughts you project to the world; that ocean drowns you in your hopes, dreams and fear. But you embrace the millions of little lives amidst the salt, for the first time in your entire life you’ve managed not to take flight. Your decision to fight through the suffering reaffirms the dreams once ripped from deep within you. Your decision not to flee reminds you what you must be.



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Aaren Herron

Creative writer working to hone his craft, no longer at the expense of a mental state.