Trying something out.

The street lights glowed from the aftermath of the rain, yellow and dim white.
A slight fog crept along the shimmering streets, a small chill in the air made her shiver.
She exhaled, breathing out the heavy smoke, the cigarette held tight against her faded red lips. Her eyes were black as night, crusted with tears, that left jagged lines down her face.

She knew what she was getting into, somehow thinking she could handle it. Silent 3am rendezvous', She'd been there before, nothing new. Why should he be any different? Since when was her heart so delicate? When did she even bother to start pretending anything mattered anyway?
Useless questions, pointless answers.

Cool brick rested behind her head as the cigarette was crushed under her heel. Another deep breath.

Inside, the club was still alive, bodies pressed close, thumping music and fast beating hearts.
He sat gripping a chilled glass full of courage. All the voices around him seemed distant and jumbled. He watched her walk out, he watched the wretched scene unfold in front of his eyes.
He knew what was going on, he knew she was fooling herself, he knew he should say something.
She deserves better.
Someone who cares, someone who sees her pain, someone like himself.
One more glass, "I'll be ready."

~/~

A half empty bottle of red wine sat on the glass table, while the music played softly in her ears.
The clock hands slowly ticked by as she stared at the paint chips on the ceiling.
The knock was light, but forceful enough to remove her from her almost dream.
His tired eyes begged, running his hands through his hair. She knew she'd never be able to resist him.

He never said a word, as she kept her eyes shut tight, afraid to look at him. Searching her perfect face, fingers traced tiny patterns around her small lips.
The need in his kisses, and the rigid breath in her ear made her shiver.

The red glow of the clock illuminates the room, the cool air passes over and through the thin sheets covering their bodies. Side by side, lost.
She lies awake, breathless, still. Blinking eyes that can no longer see clearly. His warmth radiates off of him in waves, but still makes her tremble. His breath is quiet and even, peacefully asleep and dreaming.
4:15am.
4:43am.
5:12am.
Eyelids flutter, in and out of consciousness.

9:49am
Alone.
~/~

Another rainy day, more clouds pass by with tiny rumbles of thunder. It seems like the sun never shines any more.
The sidewalks are slick and sparked with transparent puddles.

The lights in the window dully glow above the dirty help wanted sign.
The bar was small, smokey, calm. Tables strewn about the sticky floors, and glowing neon signs.
Inside the stools and chairs are resting on smudged black tables, a quiet calm threads in the air.

Working at bar wasn't his first choice, especially not this one.
Painting, music, photography, that's what he wanted to do. Suffering for art, right?
He noticed her almost immediately.
She didn't talk much, but her sad eyes told a million stories.

Her eyes search; waiting, and hopeful.
A job is a job, pouring drinks didn't seem too bad. Anything to occupy the long and lonely nights.

“Can I help you?”
She smiled and nodded, pointing to the sign in the window.
“Umm, I'm here about the job?”
“Is that a question?” He chuckled slightly.
She let out a nervous laugh. “Yah, er no, I mean, is it still available?”
He nodded. “Yes, do you have any experience?”
“Not really, I mean, I learn fast, I've been to a lot of bars, I'm good with people, uhh...”
“Have a seat” he motioned as he began taking down the stools and chairs.

She shifted, trying to calm her nerves, if she couldn't get past this interview, there really was no hope. She answered his questions the best she could, trying to sound overly interested and skilled. Her thoughts were self depreciating, cursing herself for every dumb answer she spewed out. He seemed amused by her though, laughing here and there.

“Well, this job really isn't that difficult, weekdays and nights are usually slow, but weekends we have bands, live acts, and that really draws a crowd, it can get pretty hectic, but if you really want, the job is yours”
“Great, thank you so much” She grinned, shaking his hand.
“Good, good, You can start tomorrow at noon, it's mostly myself here, I run the place, I have a couple of other employees as well, you'll meet them soon.
She nodded, “Thanks again, nice to meet you, see you tomorrow”


~/~

The days passed quickly, new job, old thoughts.
Glasses and bottles, guitars and stools.
Old, young, lies and smiles.
Everyone was looking for the same thing.
Hope from despair, smile from shambles, heat from the bitter cold of loneliness.

AJ was patient, helping her along. She was right, she picked up quickly, she was friendly, and worked well.
She didn't say a whole hell of a lot, her false smiles were better than none at all.
He was curious. Something was weighing on her, in a huge way.

Friday night, 10:30 pm, time for the first band.
College rock, indie band, folk singer with an acoustic dream.
They all drew in a crowd.
Some danced, others swayed. Everyone felt.
Easy lyrics of lost love, new love, making love.

Another new night, another co-worker.
A pretty girl named Emma.
Everyone loved her. She wanted to be her.

She smiled at her often, offering silent encouragement.
Why did everyone have to be so goddamn nice to her?
It's like she could see inside, knowing all her thoughts.
Am I really that transparent?

She didn't tread as lightly as AJ.
Her questions were hard hitting, and honest.
Things Taryn couldn't answer, didn't want to remember.
So she lied, like she always had. Except this time, she wasn't as good.

Sure I'm happy, sure this is what I want to do with my life.
Single, and loving it. Can't nobody hold me down, I'm invincible.
Having the time of my young life.
Who's fooling who now?

Emma shook her head, humored.
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself to get through honey”
A shrug and a silly face seemed to compensate.

~/~

Rain, rain go away, you make my life miserable.
The clouds are mocking me, life imitates art too often around here.
Too much time on my hands, not enough distractions.

Blank pages...
Misty windows...
Silence...

The mirror's reflection seemed unreal. Pale, sallow, sick.
Hazel eyes stared back at her, lifeless and dull.
"No more"
Her voice a whisper, timid.
“Don't.
Be.
Her.”

Starry night, not a regular occurrence.
She sits on the fire escape, smoke escaping her lips in the thick chilled air.
Her head rests atop a damp railing, with dangling legs.
50 feet. Long way down.

Silhouettes of life across the parking lot.
Dinner, TV, dancing, baking, love, hate, kids.
A reminder of everything she would never be, or have.
She felt like a voyeur, a peeping Tom.

“Maybe I should get a cat”
She felt silly talking to herself, out loud. But no one was around to hear.
Nothing new.
Ringing. Ringing?
Her phone vibrates with a melancholy tone.
Old friend, different life.

Instead of life, a nap wins.
Sleep is better than real life anyway.
Dreams don't come anymore, thankfully.

~/~

The world stopped, like this.
Feather touch fingers, damp and firm palms, tickling down her sides.
Tracing her curves.
Pale, porcelain, hollow.
Breasts, neck, thighs, hands, hair.
Moist, warm, heady.
Swollen pink lips. Kissing life in and out of her.
“Don't stop”
Gentle grasp on her hips, fingertips on his back.
Push and pull, black metallic.
Deep, slow, agonizing breaths.
Trembling tongues, whispering lies and names.
“I need you”
Closer, deeper, intensity rises.
Strobe lights behind their eyes, closed tight.
Tighter, he holds her, bruising. Can't get enough.
“God, please...”
Shiver, quake, sensations rumbling.
One last sigh, an unheard declaration.
Empty and Sated. Together.

~/~

Brown bottles, half full, mostly empty sit on an old coffee table.
He strums his guitar, and scribbles down lyrics.
Smoke after smoke, he sits in a fog. Head unclear.
A gentle scratch on his bare chest, and a ringing cell phone.
Feet up on the table now, leaning back into the noisy leather sofa.
A swift push of his foot, cell phone averted.
Worn, stained jeans and bare feet. Hair a usual mess.
Strum soul, strum passion, strum loneliness.
A new gig up tonight, a bar on the outside of the city.
“Rhys Bryant, Friday night, 11:30, The Underground, 254 Main St”

It stopped raining, it's been raining for days.

One more sigh, a few more strums.
Maybe a hot shower will do some good, maybe some whiskey.

~/~

Second Friday night, time passes quickly, randoms, regulars, a young crowd this evening.
Vodka, Gin, Jack are flowing like water.
Taryn meets another coworker, John. Tall, skinny, possibly into the local 'scene'.
Glasses and plugs are a dead giveaway. He seems preoccupied, and unresponsive to her.
There's no way in hell she is going to introduce herself.
Crowd's getting thicker, and louder. A fight almost breaks out, and it's only 11.

Quiet surprises her, and the lights go down.
Spotlight on, bar stool rests on the stage, enter live act.
Acoustic guitars breezes effortlessly.
His guitar made him look like a soulful poet. Wild hair, clear blue eyes and 3 day old stubble.
His voice radiates through the air, full of passion and pain.

All too soon, it's over, and the crowd is once again restless.
They shout obscenities, and hook up, and order their weight in liquor.
She liked her job though, taking care of the barflies and casual stragglers.
Pouring them solutions to all life's problems. Didn't leave much time for her own that way.
Glasses break, girls laugh, guys talk tough.

She's always been an observer, a watcher, not playing along. It's so much easier.
Maybe she's too introverted, or just too shy. Whatever, it doesn't matter.
They're all more interesting than she'll ever be.

She catches the acoustic soul stealer's eyes, he waves an empty bottle.
He rests on a bar stool hidden in the corner, in the dark.
“On the house”
He nods and smiles. No 'thank you' falls from his lips.

A slight slap on her back startles her.
“Take a break girl, you look like you need one”
John finally spoke.

A slight nod in his direction and she was out the door with a cigarette in her hand.
Dry, no rain, finally. Even warm, warmer than usual.
She takes a spot on the cool concrete, indian style.
Sharp inhales ease her. It's quiet, she's alone, until now.
“Got a light?”
She tosses her matches to the tall, gorgeous, unkempt man.
The man who plays the guitar. The man whose voice soothed.
He leans against a light post, legs crossed.
It's still quiet, save for purging smoke.
With a flick, the cigarette is gone.
“Thanks for the beer” He whispers and disappears back inside.

With a deep breath, she stands up to head back in.
No more thinking for tonight, just work, just work.
Leave it all behind, don't let them see this mess.

Another band, almost last call. The crowd grows louder.
Cheers, claps, silence...
Clearing out, cleaning up, the jukebox sings tragedy.
John smiles, and says it was nice working with her.
“Get out of here, go rest, see you next weekend”
She nods, forces a smile, “Thanks, see ya”

Still warm, but she wears a jacket, hands in her pocket.
No car, just her legs. It's late but safe. Just a few blocks.

One more puff of smoke escapes his lips, and he notices her again.
Light hair, sort of like the evening sun. Gold, warm, rustling in the thick air.
Heavy guitar case on his back, he follows, trying to catch up.

~/~

Days become emptier, the nights longer.
“Maybe I'll take some classes, learn something new, maybe art, photography...”
“Good idea, so how's the job?” The other voice on the phone asks.
“Alright, I guess, it pays the bills”
“You should come out with us this weekend”
“Mm, maybe, I dunno”
“Come on Tar, we miss you”
“I'll let you know, I think I have to work”
“Whatever, let me know ok?”
“Sure, yah, I'll talk to you later Em”

She wanted to see them, she did, but she felt so out of it lately. Surely her company wouldn't be enjoyable. Her friends deserved better, someone coherent and content.
Definitely not her, at least not right now.

Power button on, scrolling pages. Photography classes starting soon at the college, 3 days a week. “Perfect”
Pictures were good, lasting memories. She had plenty, but never enough, and too much time.

A walk would be good, maybe through the park. Fall is beautiful, all the pretty leaves and colors.
It's foggy, but light, visible air. It's a bit chilly, but tolerable.
Shuffling through the soggy leaves, inhaling the fresh air, is just what she needed.
No moping, no thinking, just taking in the surroundings.
She stops to rest on an old wooden bench with chipped green paint.
It's damp, and cold, and strangely comfortable.

It's such a small city, with so many people.
People pushing strollers, jogging, taking pictures, walking their dogs.
Couples walking hand in hand, and caressing.
She wasn't jealous, just curious. Wondering “when” and “what ifs”.

She needed a new camera, and some new thoughts.

~/~

3 missed calls, Power off.
Power on, 4 unanswered texts.
Power off. Power on. Power off. Power on. Power off. Power on.
2:14 am.

The tiny hole in the wall seemed to get bigger as she stared.
Everything was in slow motion, The sound at the door sounded like a ticking time bomb.
Louder. Quiet. Sigh. Whisper. "Please"
Helpless. Familiar.
Power off.

~/~

Faded laughter and empty glasses strewn about the table.
Just for one night, just one night, she wanted to forget, to be free.
No thoughts of him, no false pretenses. Just a friend and a smile.
New dress, new shoes, all hope rested on new.
Small talk became old stories, childhood tales, light and innocent.

She didn't dare show him the real, constant, and bitter broken.
He helped, he smiled, wicked pretty smiles.
Kind eyes in colors of the forest, beach, and nature. Or just green.
Kind eyes that carefully watched the sadness fade out of her.

He grabbed her hand, tracing a slight pattern.
“Do you want another drink?”
She nodded, hoping this one would be the end of feigning thoughts.
“Thanks, sure”
“Be right back”
She sighed, heavily, wondering why the interest, why he cared.
Being nice doesn't make you a saint, just a great liar. A beautiful, horrible liar.

She couldn't fool him for long, He'd be running soon enough.
Anyone can see right through you, even him.
Still too many damn questions, and more even pointless answers.

~/~

A movie plays out on screen, black and white. Dancing and dramatics, when life was simple.
It's still early, a night off for her. She should call her friends, she should have fun, it's been awhile.
Maybe next weekend she will be out of this slump, feeling better...maybe.

A light knock startles her, she didn't get many visitors. She pauses for a moment, unsure. Another knock.
She opens it, hoping it's not her friends who've come to drag her away.
It's not.
She stares at him puzzled, confused.
“Hey” he nervously spits out, a hand caressing the back of his neck.
“Hi” is all she can manage, holding the door frame with her left hand.
“Umm...I dunno, uh I'm...shit, I just needed to get out of my apartment”
She nods, and pushes the door open to him.
“Sure, come in”

He's quiet, and takes a seat on her old sofa. The faded flowers aren't as attractive as they once were.
She holds up a bottle “Want a drink?”
He nods and lights up a smoke. “Do you mind?”
She shakes her head and smiles. “I usually smoke on the fire escape” She says with a shrug.
“Shit, sorry” He apologizes, looking for the doorway.
She points, his eyes follow. She watches him walk to the door.
Curious. They had only met the other night, when he walked her home from work.
The acoustic poet, Rhys. They didn't say much that night but he seemed, nice? Probably not the right word, but close enough.

The whir of the sliding door is open and shut, revealing him once again.
She's unsure of what to say, and settles for silence. Maybe he will speak first.
He leans back and takes a quick drink, resting the bottle on the table.
She mimics him and turns her attention back to the movie. Half of it.

The scenes play out, and another movie starts. He gets up to use the bathroom, and she gets him another beer.
He stands in the middle of the room, looking for the time, it's 9:00.
They were all probably still there, and he didn't want to see them. He was sick of them.
He rests himself in the same spot, before going out for anther cigarette. She joins him this time.

It's misty, and cool. The moon is full tonight, and lighting up the sky with a pale hazy glow.
The smoke swirls around and disappears into the darkness.
“Thanks” he whispers. His eyes concentrated on the cars below.
She nods, “Sure” is all she can think of.
He looks unhappy, tired. “I just, sometimes...people, at my place....” He flicks his cigarette over the railing. “It's quiet here”
She understands.

~/~

Weeknights at work were average, slow. Time didn't pass much.
AJ worked with her mostly, talking more and more, as she seemed to talk even less.
She was tough to crack, and always looked somber.
He was curious about her, but too shy to ask. He promised himself he would, and soon.
So he made small talk, hoping it would coax her to open up a bit.
She mentioned small details of her life, the new photography classes she was taking, and the painting classes she planned on taking.
He liked her ambition, he did those things too. He volunteered to help and teach her if she needed it.
“Sure, maybe” she said with a small smile.

She wasn't sure if she wanted him to help, she didn't want another person around.
She might slip, show a crack in her so called perfect armor.
The questions were diverted and turned to him.
She asked about his art, and how he ended up working at a bar.
“Ahh my uncle owns the place, so he offered me a job right after I got out of college, I planned on just doing it part time, ya know, I had big plans...” He trailed off, drying a glass.
“Like?” She almost felt embarrassed grilling him, she barely knew him.
He raised an eyebrow and stifled a laugh. “Just doing my art, traveling to Paris, Rome, all over really. I'm a musician too, I jam with friends sometimes.”
She listened intently, interested. “That sounds great, I've never been anywhere outside of the US”
“I've been to London a few times, and Scotland, I have some family there. Went to Japan once too, it's really amazing to see”
“I bet” She was envious of him, listening to all the things he's done, and is still doing. All she ever did was waste time, and sit in a pool of her own misery.
She silently swore to herself that she wouldn't take one more minute for granted, but knew that thought would go just as quickly as it came.
“So are you in a band too?”
“Nah, not really, I mean we play together like at my place, but nothing really official, it's just something fun, a good outlet.”
“Oh, like, original stuff? Covers?”
“Kinda both, I write stuff and we occasionally try to work it out. It's alright”
“Wow, what don't you do?” She shook her head.
He laughed again. “I'm sure there's a lot”

It was strange, laughing with him. It seemed like a lifetime since she had.
Or even talked that much. Luckily it wasn't about her.
She didn't have anything interesting to say anyway. Boring, boring, boring.

“So what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Why are you working here?”
“You hired me”
His face scrunched up, half smiling.
“Yah, but...” He nudges her with his shoulder. “What are your life plans?”
She shrugs. “I don't really know right now, I guess I'm just waiting for something to happen”
She walks away to tend to a stray customer, not wanting to spill anymore secrets.
She's already said way too much.

~/~

All the noise, the damned noise. It never ends.
A constant drumming in his head.
Voices, shouts, laughter, footsteps, cupboards, doors, sex.
He might just actually explode. Not enough patience, not anymore.
His face in his hands, scratching into his hair, pulling, tugging.
There's never a moment, to himself. No time for thought.
“I need to get the fuck out of here” But no one listens.
He slips out the door unnoticed.


(Snap) (Snap) (Snap)
Trees
(Snap) (Snap) (Snap)
People walking
(Snap) (Snap) (Snap)
Clouds.
A sigh. “Boring”
“Too pretentious...goddammit”
Another day in the park, new camera in hand.
Everything seems so...overdone. Overused. Cliche.
She wonders to herself why she's doing this again. Trying to gain a new talent, skill, experience, anything. So far, it's been a bust. A big lot of nothing.


A blank canvas stares at him, challenging him.
He rests on his stool, thinking, waiting for something to come to him.
He thinks of golds, and amber. Champagne and moss.
Colors start to swirl, the paint brush gracefully drapes across ridged white.
He can't think anymore.
Fresh air, new surroundings, that's what he needed.
What happened to all his plans? Travel, art, life.
A deep sigh leads him out the door and into the cool fall air.

~/~

7am. Faint light peeks through the blinds.
She's wide awake, staring at a pile of clothes sitting on the floor.
Sleep evades her yet again. A repeat cycle.
She thinks too much, her mind racing with thoughts. Her new job, her old friends, and the confusing man who was there less than 24 hours ago.
She turns over, unable to get comfortable. The pillow is too soft, the sheets too cold.
Her eyes squeeze shut, with hopes they stay that way. At least for a few more hours.

Another sleepless night, tripping over bodies on his way to the bathroom.
Cups, bottles and half empty pizza boxes litter the kitchen and living room.
Someone's passed out in the bathtub.
He pulls the curtain across and shakes his head.
He lost control a long time ago, it's not even his anymore.
It's still too fucking early to do anything. Sleep is out of the question.
He wants to scream, yell, tell them all to get the fuck out, find a new home.
Leave him alone. Give him peace. Even just one night of quiet.
But he's too afraid, too afraid to even say no. He's afraid of everything.

The morning news show is the least appealing thing about AM television.
Happy 89th Birthday to Mildred, The weather is looking fantastic for this time of year, the annual dog show is to take place this Friday.
There's always reruns of 90's teen shows, and shitty movies no one will admit to watching.
Anything has to be better than Wake up (Enter your city here).
He hates silence, it's too lonely. He feels like a ghost whenever he's here.
There's nothing left to hold his appeal in this town. His creativity is used up.
Tired of looking at the same people, tired of the gray skies and rain clouds.
And especially tired of being alone.
It's too cold. So cold it burns.
He really, really hates silence.

~/~

She scanned the crowd, all the bodies pressed up against one another.
Moving in slow motion. Sweat beading all over them.
3 drinks, and she felt nothing. Not even a buzz.
Luckily another was on it's way. Just one night to forget, it could be good.
It might turn into 2, or even 3. Maybe forever.
If only anything was so easy.

New glass, melting ice, gone quickly.
Another. Another. Another.
She could feel the liquid running through her body.
Alive and electric.

New faces, blurred lights. Music beating a rhythm in her heart.
Familiar eyes caught hers. Surprise rocked her.
Her chest tightened, head pounded. Breath ragged.

~/~


It's starting to feel like she was living in a fish tank.
Too much water, wet, rain. What was this, Seattle?
The East coast isn't supposed to be so dreary.
It wouldn't put a damper on her plans though.

Another night of trying her hand at photography.
The rain made everything glow, and shine.
Traffic lights and zooming cars, leaving a light trail behind.
Snap. Snap. Snap.

Swishing noises, droplets on roofs and awnings, seeping down.
She walks quietly down the street, listening to the sounds.

Alone. Seemed like she always is these days.
Not that she was some loner, she just never really noticed.
And for some reason, it didn't bother her either.
She didn't have to impress anyone, or tell a funny joke, or understand some theory.
Didn't have to talk so much, especially with nothing to tell, just made things easier.
Was she really this cynical? Depressed? Or just completely sick of everything?

She knew one thing though, she was going to get out of this damn rut, if it was the last thing she did.

~/~

Road trip, wind blowing in his hair, Lynyrd Skynyrd in the tape deck.
It was like the ending of some movie.
The warm air and sun had to help.
No more goddamn rain.
He was far away from home by now, it felt so damn good.
Nothing was familiar, everything was possible again.

He remembered another time, when his dreams were still alive.
They still could be. It wasn't over, not yet.
He promised himself to take time off, the sooner the better.
He didn't want his creativity or soul to die. He had too much to offer.

~/~

The ceiling was dingy and dank with old smoke.
Dishes were tossed about, garbage overflowing, and musty smells everywhere.
It was a dump, it used to be nice, before.
He kicked a few cans out of the way and threw himself on the filthy couch.
He ran his hands ceremoniously through his hair and exhaled a massive breath.

“Hey man, where were you last night? You missed one hell of a party?”
He closed his eyes and rested his head on the rough cushion. “Oh yah?”
“Fuck, it was insane.”
“That's nice.”
“So, what's up, did you see Michelle?”
He just shook his head and pulled out a cigarette. Pushing it between his dry lips, he mumbled.
“Jesus why don't you clean up this fucking shit hole for once, I'm tired of looking at it”
His friend glared at him, curious. “Yah later, I gotta meet up with this chick I met last night.”
He gave an over exaggerating sigh. “It fucking stinks in here Rich, really, just fucking do something”
“Alright, chill out man, I will. I gotta run though, I'll catch you later.”

The door swung shut leaving a comfortable silence. It's been ages.
He finished the cigarette and hastily got up to grab a garbage bag.
It wasn't his mess, but he couldn't stand it anymore.
He gave up halfway through, walking out with the door open.

~/~
Halloween was always a big night at the bar.
Everyone in costumes and masks.
It should be fun, carefree, a time to let loose.
Usually it was her favorite holiday. This year she just wasn't into it.
She poured drinks and shots and made up new ones out of boredom.

Loud music poured from the speakers, while people cheered and danced too close.
It's amazing how many people could fit into such a small place.
John and Emma were both there tonight, to help deal with the large crowd.
They wore silly costumes, fitting in.
Taryn didn't.
She really didn't even notice the date. Her mind was so far away these days.

AJ surprised her, sneaking up and securing a head band of bunny ears on her head.
She grinned slightly and rolled her eyes at her reflection in the mirror.
“Don't you like Halloween?” He had to yell, even with his lips inches away from her ear.
She shrugged. “I used to.”
“Have fun, relax” His too big smile made her feel a little more at ease as his hand gripped her shoulder.

The night wore on, the crowd a little rowdy.
There was a fight, with some broken stools and noses. Everything was chaos.
She hated it, the sounds were sickening. Fists and bones. Cracking, splitting, blood.
The place was cleared out and cleaned up. Halloween was a rousing success.

~/~

Halloween turned into Thanksgiving turned into Christmas.
The days were just one long blur, a rush of nothing and numbness.
Photography classes were interesting, and painting classes were starting soon.

Nights were filled with work, or him. Movies, wine, stale pizza, sex.
Her friends stopped calling.
She successfully enveloped herself into a dark hole.

She felt like she disappeared. Not really there.
The thought of doing something entered her mind frequently, but it never happened.

She washed and dried glasses in a daze, her mind wandering.
“So how's the photography thing working out?” “Taryn?”
She blinked, looking to AJ.
“Hmm?”
He laughed. “You ok?”
“Yah sorry, just...thinking”
“I see, well, how's things? How's your photography class?”
“Oh, umm, good. I guess.”
“That's good to hear, can I see some of your work?”
She furrowed her brows, almost laughing. “It's not very interesting, just...boring stuff”
“Ahh, we are our own worst critic, I'm sure it's great”
“I somehow doubt that, I have no talent”
He nudged her playfully, a endearing smile on his lips. “Come on, don't be so hard on yourself”
“Pftt, I just, I dunno, I...it's nothing, believe me”
“If you say so” “Have you used film cameras, or just digital?”
“Umm, just digital right now. Film cameras are a bit expensive.”
“Oh well, you could borrow mine, if you want, there's a real beauty in film, especially black and white”
“Oh, I don't really know much about that sort, so thanks anyway”
“I could teach you, really, if you're into it that much, you have to use film, there's a big difference”
She nodded, sighing. “Sure, I guess”
“Well, how about tomorrow? I don't really have any plans”
“Uhh, sure, ok”
“Great, we can meet at the park at like...2?”
She nodded again. “Sure, yah”

She felt odd, and unsure again. Did she really want to meet with her overly attentive boss?
Sure he was nice, and hell, pretty damn good looking, but doubt was playing her.
Pretending shouldn't be so hard. She could put on a facade, she's already been doing it this long.

~/~

They sat inches apart on her faded sofa. The tension was thick and hung in the air.
It was the 3rd time he showed up, knocking on her door.
Screaming, axes, and knives blurred the television screen.
The female lead ran up the stairs locking the door, scared.
Always the same cliche, up the stairs, instead of out the door.

He slouched, ex-animate, drooping. Chest rising and falling slowly with his long breaths.
His eyes looked lifeless, fixed on the screen.
She pushed some hair behind her ear, slowly, her head following direction.
Her gaze drifted, fingers languidly playing with strands of hair.

His hand was on hers in a swift motion, pulling it down.
His other hand cupped her cheek, then loosened as his fingers trailed her jaw and rested under her chin.
Eyes bored into hers, anticipation and worry.
Her lips parted, a timid breath escaped. Hands were now in her hair, pulling her close.
His body leaned in, lips securing around hers.

Eyes fluttered closed, hearts racing.
Sweet breath, dancing emotions.
Brain swirling with confusion and want.
Whisper soft kisses on her neck, her ear, her cheek.
Thumbs circling and caressing, tickling smooth skin.
Farther down, hands and lips.
Skin, goosebumps, desire.
Slow, agonizing, right.

Rhythm. Passion. Pleasure.
Time stood still.
Words unspoken, again.

~/~

Love.
A simple yet complex word.
She wondered, would she ever have it?
Or was it just a fairytale made for TV, movies, and fantasies.
She was tired of thinking about it, so tired it made her sick.

There would be no happily ever after or prince charming.
She was stuck in the nightmare, with the poison apple and no one to wake her.

Wine. Wine and Rum. Rum and juice.
Drinking alone probably would spiral her farther down.
Maybe one pill. Maybe two.
Who cares? It's just tonight.
Tonight, and the world will disappear.

Lights off. Door locked. Phone silent.
Quiet.
Serene.

Staring past everything.
Tears gently flowing down her tiny face, just like the rain on the windows.
She didn't feel them, she didn't feel anything.

~/~

Distortion, entangled voices and sounds swirled around him.
His high wasn't high enough.
Bump after bump, drink after drink.
Eyes wide, head spinning, lost.
Hands chaotically rubbing his face, tugging his hair, nails in his palms.
Breathing unsteady.

Talking, talking, everyone spilling secrets.
Friends and strangers yelling his name.
“Rhys, take this, Rhys, meet my friend, Rhys want another?”
Laughing, too loud, hysteria.

Rolling eyes, spinning thoughts.
Acceleration of his heart, pumping and throbbing.
Throbbing to the music, to the flashing lights.
It wasn't supposed to be this way, not anymore.

He was losing control.
Glasses kept coming, throat wet, nose burning.
He couldn't stop. It felt too good.

He could taste the blood dripping, trickling to his lips.
High wasn't high enough.

~/~

Thunder crashed and lightning shot through the pitch black night.
It lit up the whole sky, flash after flash.
The penetrating rain belted against the skylights.
Loud but peaceful.

Jack Daniels was by his side, and a pack of smokes.
His stool rested in front of the canvas.
Inspiration wasn't.

With one long burning swallow of alcohol, the bottle was empty.
He lit up a cigarette, staring at the blank rectangle.
He cursed it, he threw brushes at it, he kicked it over.

Glass smashed against the wall.
And then his fist. It hurt, but he didn't care.

Fuck this, fuck it all.
There's nothing left.
He's tired of trying. So fucking tired.

The match flickered, his eyes fixed on the flame.
He wanted to watch everything burn.

~/~

The storm knocked out the power, so the candles burned.
The pill's remnants were still running through her veins.
She could almost feel it traveling, shocking her insides.
She lay still, so still on her bed. Hooded eyes, half open, seeing lights dance across the wall.
Her breathing was even, slow.

She thought she heard a knock, but it could have been in her head.
Where everything else was.
Her life, the real her, hopes, and dreams. All locked away.
Trapped with no key. Helpless and hopeless.
Giving in was just too easy.

He waited outside her door, his body still buzzing.
He was coming down , even though the electricity was still running through his blood.
There were no noises from inside, Only a faint glowing light was peeking through the door.

He didn't want to go back there, they ruined him.
They wouldn't listen, he couldn't make them.
So he joined in, losing his resolve.

His body slid down the wall, slowly coming to a rest.
His head leaned back as he closed his eyes.
He sat there, for hours. Or maybe minutes.
Time meant nothing right now.

He had no reason, and so much fault.
The want was so strong, it wouldn't go away.
He needed her, in the worst way.

~/~

New Year's Eve.
The rain gave way to snow. Falling carelessly, collecting on the streets below.
A night for good times, resolutions, and hope.
Maybe this time it would be different.

People danced in the streets, sang and cheered.
Stumbling over one another, they were happy.

Through all the champagne and laughter, a sadness still floated through the air.
She served glasses, He broke up fights.
The noisemakers were loud as they all counted down.
To the new year, to the hope of change.
Because it was easy to. New was always better.
Starting over.

10...
Wish for inspiration.
9...
Wish for feeling.
8...
Wish for a voice.
7...
Wish to speak the truth.
6...
To be good again.
5...
To want.
4...
To find themselves.
3...
Be a better person.
2..
Stop wasting time.
1!!!
Happiness.

A warm hand and a gentle kiss on her cheek brought her out of her thoughts.
“Happy New Year beautiful”
She watched in shock as AJ walked away smiling.

…

He didn't want to drink tonight, he's done enough.
Too much.
No more slipping up, no more giving in.
His voice needed to be found. His thoughts needed to be sorted.

He wandered aimlessly down street after street.
Looking for something, anything.
To make him feel different, to feel at all.
To take it away. Make it right. Comfort.
Someone maybe, a person to listen, even though he couldn't speak.
His words were screaming inside his head.

Happy New Year.
Wasn't that the whole point?
~/~
Maybe in another life she had it all together.
But inside these 4 walls, she was falling apart.
Thinking too much, wondering.
It made her head hurt.

It was becoming increasingly harder to deal.
Crash and burn, time and time again.

She kept putting off meeting with AJ.
Excuse after excuse, and he was always so forgiving.
She almost felt bad, he didn't want anything from her.
Just to help, be nice. It also made her feel guilty.
She was lying to everyone, she didn't deserve their kindness.

2 white pills, and one hour.
One hour until she didn't feel anything.

~/~

The bed was too warm, too stuffy.
The air was too thick. She couldn't take it.
Tiptoeing across the creaking wooden floor, and out to the balcony.
The misty cool air felt good on her skin.
It felt cleansing, washing everything away.

The cigarette rested between her fingers, and then between her lips.
Slow long puffs. Breathe in, Breathe out.
The moon cast a hazy glow in the dark sky.

He was still asleep, in her room.
The room that was too confined, stifling.

How much longer could this go on?
Would it ever be enough, could it ever be anything?
Did she even want this at all?

What was left? What could change?

~/~

Giving up wasn't in his vocabulary.
It felt like he might sometimes though, he wouldn't. Ever.
Everyone was so broken, so torn. He wouldn't be like them.
No matter what.

He'd find himself again, soon enough.
It's just going to take more time, and he had plenty of that.

AJ cleaned up the place as best he could, awaiting her arrival.
She'd finally accepted his help. He wasn't going to let her down.

A soft knock startled him, even though he expected it.
She looked at him unsure, timid.
“Come in” He couldn't help but smile.
She returned the gesture and quietly made her way inside.

“Wow” was all she could say, glancing around the loft.
Open, airy, and somewhat dim.
Black and white photos, portraits, and canvases littered the walls and floors.
Instruments were lying about, in chairs, and on tables.
“Sorry for the mess, I don't have much time to clean”
“No, it's ok, this is a great place”

“Umm, I just ordered Thai, are you hungry?”
She nodded, and forced a slight smile.” Yah that sounds great”

He gave her the tour, showing the darkroom last.
“You really do have everything don't you?”
He laughed, and shook his head. “Yah, ya know, it serves its purpose”

“Do you want to start with film first or ...”
The knocking interrupted him.

They made their way to a round table covered in paint splatters.
The tiny cartons were emptied onto paper plates and ate slowly.
They made small talk about the weather, work and her classes.
The kitchen sink dripped in time with a ticking clock.

He put on some music, she wandered the apartment studying his art.
He offered a glass of wine. She drank it slow.
“These are amazing, you really do have a lot of talent”
He bowed his head, sheepishly. “Thanks”
“I've been stuck lately, can't seem to get out on the canvas what's in my head”
“Yah? That sucks, I mean, must be frustrating”
“Yes, very. I think I just need a change of scenery.”
She sipped and nodded. “Yah”

Hours passed, with empty bottles.
She learned the workings and technical terms and actions.
He felt useful. She smiled, a real smile.
“I better go, it's pretty late”
“Oh, yah, so umm, we can meet Thursday in the park? You can take some pics, and if you want, I can show you how to use the darkroom”
“Sure, yah, I'd like that”
“Great, so”
He leaned, arms overhead on the door frame.
“Thursday” She whispered.
“Thursday” He simply said.
“Goodnight”
With a small wave of her hand, she was gone.

~/~

She kept her promise, and met him in the park.
The day was nice, the sun peeking out from the clouds on occasion.
He waited on an old bench. Camera in hand.
She walked slowly, gloved hands in her gray wool pockets.

He waved and smiled, and felt a little nervous.
She smiled back as he snapped a quick picture of her.
“Sorry”
She shrugged. “Don't make a habit of that”
“Sure, sure. Ready?”

He pointed out controls and knobs, and changed settings.
“Show me what you got”
She snapped whatever she saw, interesting things of course.
AJ, the rays of sun through the tree branches, birds resting and in flight.
She played with focus and distance. Black & White and color.

He watched her silently, never having to repeat himself or what he taught.
She was a natural.
He led her back to his place, directly to the darkroom.

Chemicals, and trays and containers were used and reused.
Many steps later they made a contact sheet from negatives.
“What do you think so far?”
“It seems like a lot of work, but the outcome is good right?”
He nodded. “Well sure, depending on how many of the pics actually come out to your liking. Some you might want to scrap”
“This is why I prefer digital”
“Well I mean, sometimes yah, it can be nice, but film you can do so much more with. This is just the beginning young grasshopper”
She laughed and shook her head.
“If you say so.”
“OK, so pick out one for now, and we'll enlarge it”
More steps and trays and chemicals.
A single black & white picture emerged, glossy and beautiful.
“There we go”
“Wow, it's nice”
“All you”
She seemed amazed, and pleased.
“Lucky shot”
He shook his head. “You have talent, admit it”
“Never, nope”
“Seriously Taryn, you do. Trust me ok?”

His serious eyes softened her resolve.
The dim red light glowed around him.
“Sorry, I just...” Her head lowered, eyes fixated on her shoes. “It's hard”
She felt her face raise, at the gentle touch of his fingers on her chin.
“Trust me”

Eyes penetrated at hers, touches drifted up her cheek.
His breath was hot, soothing.
Lips pressed gently, achingly slow.
She felt light, but her head heavy.
Heartbeats increased.
Time ceased to move.
She felt herself falling, losing all but one sense.

Knots wretched her stomach. She couldn't do this.
“I...I have to go”
She rushed out into the pouring rain, running fast.

~/~

She felt paralyzed. Her body melded to the bed.
Hands shook, thoughts frantic.
More complications she didn't need.

Her phone vibrated and rang and beeped.
Rain pelted loudly against the windows.
But she heard nothing.

She fought with herself. Berating, for not listening to her gut feelings.
No matter how right the kiss felt, it was more than wrong.
And it would never happen again.
His breath caught in his throat.
His feet wore out the wood below, pacing.
Wondering how to fix what he had just done.
He had ruined everything, in a matter of seconds.
There was no taking it back, no undo.

Would she come back?
Would she be at work?
How could he apologize?
“Fuck!”
The door met his foot with a harsh thud.

~/~

Another gig tonight.
Thank god.
He needed to get out, nothing new.
It's been weeks since he's played.

The long nights in the spare time provided him with endless thoughts.
And her.
And new material.
He was eager to show it all, a chance to let it out.
It was building up and he was ready to blow.

Guitar case weightless on his back.
His feet carried him swiftly to the smoky bar.
The crowds faces were all unfamiliar.
It gave him a strange comfort.

Eyes remained closed as the words flowed out of his lips.
They were more meaningful than he was willing to admit.
No one would know.
Or could.
Not even his own heart.

After the alcohol stopped flowing, he found himself in a familiar place.
He hesitated, staring at the door.
Lost, and fucking confused.
Knuckles rapped lightly.

Red eyes met his.
He walked inside quietly.
“Hey.”
“Hey” her voice sounded hoarse.
“Everything ok?”
She sniffed, and nodded. “Yah”
He stood in the center of the room, stalled.

“C'mere”
His arms enveloped her carefully.
He held on tight, her head on his chest.
His hands soothed with each caress of her hair.

They found their way to the bed, laying down gently.
He kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheek, her jaw.
Fingers smoothed her skin.
“You sure you're ok?” his voice barely above a whisper.
She didn't answer, she couldn't.
Her grip on his shirt told him everything.

“Stay with me please”
He nodded, pulling her close into him.
Her breath evened out, falling asleep in his arms.

It was never like this.
She never showed her weakness. Never faltered.
Especially to him.
This wasn't about feelings, it was about need.

He laid awake, petting her hair, rubbing her back.
This was all new to him. He wasn't sure what to think.
Or how to act.
Something was wrong, he couldn't just ignore it.
She looked so helpless, and sad.

They knew next to nothing about one another.
Besides long nights.
He could recognize the curve of her hips, breasts.
The line down her back. The shape of her lips.
But he knew nothing of her heart.

Did he want to?
He had no idea what made him follow her home that one night months ago.
She was attractive, quiet, possibly sweet.
He made no effort in getting to know her.
But neither had she with him.

The cars zoomed by loudly outside.
Their lights leaving flashing lines along the wall.
She stirred, mumbling and moaning.
He whispered quiet words to her, kissing her hair.
“Shh, it's ok, it's ok”
Her hands found his shirt again, gripping it tighter, pulling him closer.
“Don't leave. Please”
Her voice shaking, barely registering.

His lips found hers, pressing gently. Speaking softly against them.
Moving to her neck, collar, chest.
Hands traveled down her back, to her thigh, pulling her even closer.
They never stopped moving.
Fingers trailed smoothly, up and down, soothing.
Kisses placed as light as a feather.

It was slow. So slow.
His weight on her, hands tangled.
Labored breath, delicate rhythm.

He wanted to take all her pain away, all his pain away.
No matter what it was.
She could help him.
All he could feel was her.
He never wanted to stop.

~/~

Thunder woke her.
Late morning.
She was confined, still in his arms.
He was there, he didn't leave.

She felt strange.
It felt good.
Safe.
Unfamiliar.

His eyes opened, searching hers.
Silence.
Long, heavy breaths.
So close. Warmth.
Her head dropped, eyes closed.
She didn't need to cry. Not in front of him.

Courage was lacking. Work was calling.
AJ was waiting.
She moved, sitting up, her back to him.
He hesitated, hand close.
She stood, carrying the sheet with her.

She heard the front door close, while the shower washed it all away.

~/~

The storm was loud, and lasting.
Rain not letting up.
It pelted her, leaving her covered, dripping.

The bar was dim, too calm.
Empty.
AJ stood idly.
She forced a smile. It didn't reach her eyes.
The music oozed sadness out of the jukebox.

“Hey” he simply said.
“Hey” her voice cracked.
“You ok?”
She nodded. “Just a little wet”
“I'll turn up the heat”

Too quiet. Only a few customers.
She wanted to apologize, but no words would come out.
AJ was silent. His thoughts in turmoil.
They were both too weak.
Too afraid.

The bathroom lights buzzed above.
Water trickled from the tap.
Film covered the mirror.
Her face was red, tears falling without warning.
They wouldn't stop.
Her heart was sinking. Head clouded.
She had no answers.

She fixed herself, exiting the bathroom.
Her eyes would give her away.

“You can go home, I'm gonna close early”
“Oh”
She bit her lip, stifling more tears.
“OK”
“I can give you a ride, if you want to wait a bit”
She nodded.
They cleaned up, and left minutes later.

“Are you hungry?”
He looked at her surprised to hear her speak.
“Sure, where do you want to go?”
“There's a nice place close to my apartment, do you mind?”
“OK”

The restaurant was small, cozy.
Red and yellow lamps hung above tables.
They ordered pizza, and a pitcher of beer.

“I want to apologize, for the other night”
He was still, quiet.
“I...can't explain everything, even if I tried, I just want to tell you I'm sorry.”
He nodded. “It's ok, I should be apologizing to you”
“No, please. I just really, shit, I dunno, I'm really not in a good place right now, it has nothing to do with you.”
“Taryn, really, you don't need to do this”
She nodded, lowering her head.
“I don't want this to affect work, the photo lessons, anything”
“It's fine, I still want to help you”
“Thanks, good, I appreciate it”
He grabbed her hand. “I want to be your friend, alright?”
She squeezed back. “Thank you. I hope I can be a friend to you as well”
He smiled, assuring her.

She felt horrible. But she knew she couldn't be more to him.
Not right now. Not like this.
No matter how caring he was, or how right it would probably be.
Her head and her heart were in limbo, not knowing what to do.

They ate quietly.
He offered her another lesson for Saturday afternoon.
She accepted.

There would be no more tears tonight.
Only sleep. Alone.

~/~

She dreamed about moving, maybe somewhere warmer. Somewhere near the ocean.
Maybe Hawaii, Bermuda, Jamaica. Anywhere but here.
Here, where she was rotting away. Stuck in a deep hole.
It's not running away, just a change of scenery.
Maybe inspiration would follow her.
The sun would shine, she would smile.
Warmth, heat, sand.
Walking down the coast, white bubbles wetting her toes.

The sound of raining pounding against her old thin windows awoke her.
The dream was gone, leaving her empty again.

She closed her eyes, feeling the shower's stream against her.
Dreaming again, a waterfall. Washing all of the past away.
Steam fogged the mirror and shower door, it was easy to pretend.

Here there was no pain, no remembering, no judgment.
Just calm. Easy. Happiness.

In a daze, she dressed. Routine.
Walk, slosh, wet, drip.
Open and closing doors, squeaky and sticky floors.
Drinks and shots. Glasses, bottles. All empty.

The hole was deepening. If nothing happened soon, she'd be trapped forever.
No help was in sight. No rope, no chance.
Falling farther down. Farther and farther.

It's been 2 weeks. He hasn't been around.
Not since that morning.

People talked, buzzing in her ears. Muffled. Nothing made sense.

Why, how, when? Who?
Who was she? How was she supposed to be?
When would it stop, when did it start?
Why? Why now? Why her?

Too much, head full, about to explode.
Pressure, beating and pulsing.

“Taryn? Hey. You there?”
She heard her name, she thinks.
She couldn't tell if it was real.
The eyes staring into hers brought her back.
“Hey, you ok?” AJ stood in front of her, concerned look on his face.
She blinked.
“What?”
She was so confused. She didn't even remember how she got here.
To this point. To losing it. Snapping in and out of reality.

“We lost you there for a minute, are you ok?”
She nodded, slowly.
“Yah, sorry, I guess I just...remembered something, uhh, ya know, kinda shocked me”
She lied, and it sounded ridiculous.
What was happening?
“Are you sure?, Do you need a break?”
She shook her head. “No, no, I'm fine, really, sorry. I'm sorry.”

The night resumed, her feet planted firmly in the present.
It was Saturday. Band night. Who was next to grace the tiny dim stage?

Acoustic melodies drifted over the room. She recognized the voice immediately.
Her eyes wouldn't allow her to look. They'd betray her soon though.

The small crowd listened intently, lost.
Lips humming lost tunes, full of regret.
It didn't affect them like it did her.

She shivered, remembering.
That voice, how warm it could be.
How it traveled her body, taking all the pain away.
It made her forget, it made her just feel.

Stuck, frozen. She couldn't move.
Sighing with closed eyes. One deep breath.
She could forget. Block it all out, away.

A few shots of Jager could help.
Relax. Work. Distraction.

AJ eyed her, worried.
She never drank at work, he didn't mind much.
As long as they did their jobs. It was ok.
But she didn't do that. Ever.

Her shoulders were warmed instantly with firm hands.
A gentle whisper in her ear.
“Tayr, are you sure you're ok? Talk to me”
“No, I said I'm fine, ok? I just, it's a bar isn't it? Am I not supposed to drink here?”
“No, I mean, yah, it's ok sometimes, but you don't seem like...yourself tonight”
She shrugged.
“Maybe that's a good thing”
She walked to the other end of the bar, and into the back room.

It felt like fire burning a hole through her chest.
Her head spinning, she crouched, elbows on her knees.
Hands in her hair. Pulling lightly.
Voices in her head telling her to calm down.

Another deep breath. Out the back door for a cigarette.
Cold night air welcomed her. Cooling the burn.
Blue and orange danced and turned white to red.
Inhale, exhale. Tar and tobacco. Ashes falling slightly.
Crackling, sputtering.
It turned to acid in her mouth.
Red turned to black and gray. White to brown.
Another remnant lying wet on the stony ground.
Drip, drip, drip. Tin roofs and awnings cried.

Music still played, muted through the walls.
Heat filled her body again, droplets collected on her arms and hair dried.
Back to work. Time's up.

She nodded, and pulled her best fake smile towards AJ.
“Sorry, rough week”
He returned her nod, afraid to say any more.

“Hey”
Her back stiffened, a pause in counting change.
She turned, facing him.
“Hey...beer?”
Nod. Silence.
Jagged small metal fell to the ground. Beer in his hand.
“On the house”
“Thanks”
Still. Unmoved. Unsure.
Another voice followed, along with a loud clap on his back.
“Hey man, great set”
He smiled, and continued a small conversation with AJ.

His mind raced, confused, wondering.
He nodded when he was supposed to, he smiled when appropriate.
Accepting praise from randoms, and a check from AJ.
Eyes drifted every so often, watching.
Trying to read her. She didn't notice.
Should he talk to her? Did he want to?
What kind of line was drawn?

2 weeks.
2 weeks of parties, booze, noise.
A line here and there, not as much as last time.
It helped, the words flowed.
Words that didn't quite make sense. Words that made too much sense.
Mind and body in a total daze. Cloudy, but clearer than ever.
2 weeks without her.

“See you next Saturday, Rhys”
Gone.

“He's great eh?”
AJ's smile was bright, almost contagious.
Nod and agree. Smile too.
“Yah, pretty good.”
“Brings in a decent sized crowd”

“Do you need a ride home? It's raining pretty bad out there”
Chairs and stools on tabletops. Lights dimming and flickering.
Glasses washed, bar polished and shiny.
Crowd emptied. Floors still sticky.
“I don't want to go home”

...“OK.”
His warm hand around hers, out the door.

Car doors open and close. Heat streaming through slotted vents.
Lights on, tires move.
Quiet, radio off. Wipers squeal now.
Labored breaths. Eyes checking often.
She's still, golden hair pressed on the cold window.

Stopped. His loft.
Hands joined again, leading her up stairs.
Unlocked door, squeaking open. Keys thrown on a table.

“Hungry?”
“No”
“Drink?”
Another shake of her head.
“What can I do?”
Green piercing her. Mouth breathing warm words.
Burning hands on her sides, trembling but firm.
Moisture threatened her eyes.
'No more thinking, please just let me feel'
Squeeze, shut tight, push it away.
Open, searching.
Freckles, pale, beautiful. Patient.
Too kind.
Imprinted smooth skin presses gently on her hips.
Grip a little tighter. Moving farther. Closer.
She feels him all around her. Bodies enveloped in each other.

The bed is soft, and a little cold.
Blankets cover her. He lays beside her.
Facing her form. Hands whisper over her hair.
Smoothing soft skin, her cheeks, jaw, neck.
Closer. Pulling. Tighter.
Peaceful, quiet sleep.

~/~


Mistakes. Mistakes and Regrets. Full of them.
Words wouldn't come, too busy being stuck.
In her throat, in her head. No escape.
Jumbled, floating, suspended. Unsure of what was right.
What she wanted. Such a mess.

The moon, giant and bright, burning through the dark glass.
Bed now warm, body beside her. Rise and fall, breath slow.
Too good, too kind. Too beautiful.
Firm arms find her, closer, tighter. Pressured lips but too light, in her hair.

It's still raining, sprinkling the skylights. Streaming down tall windows.
Jagged and broken drops. Out of focus. Absorbing street lights.

Pictures in her head. Eyes closed, open, closed.
Answers weren't coming. Too many what ifs. Too many whys.
Every day. Her life wasn't hers anymore. Her thoughts someone elses.

There was no reason, unless you count the past.
No big deals, nothing to trigger. No traumatic experiences.
It just was. She had secrets, but never juicy.

Her parents loved her, she had friends. She did well in school.
She had boyfriends, good, bad, even better. Endings and beginnings.
There's been a lot.
Never quite in love. Never really feeling.

The candles were puddled wax, melting over empty wine bottles.
A few still glowing, burning a sweet scent.

Closed eyes again. Steady breath. Inch closer.
He's so warm. He smells too good. He feels, he feels...safe.
He doesn't deserve her indifference.
He makes me feel.
He makes me feel.
I can't.

~/~

Pacing, back and forth. Down the street, behind the alley.
Cigarette after cigarette, his lips inhale. Lungs filled.
Windows are dark. Looking up. No movement.
2 weeks.

Closer, farther.
“Fuck!”
Hands rip and tug, pull and scratch. His hair in disarray.
Mist falls and gathers at his feet. Cracks in the pavement filled.
Dirty. Ripped open.

The guitar case is too heavy. It rests against the wall.
Dark brick. Hard and cold.
He doesn't know. At all. He wishes he could.
His eyes are too heavy. Heart beats too fast.

The bus stops and squeaks. Open doors and bright lights welcome him.
Hours pass, cars pass. Seats unfilled.
There's nowhere to go, no one to go to.

~/~

He feels her move, too often.
Gentle noises she makes in her sleep.
Her pulls her near, lips finding their way to her forehead.
Calming, relaxing. Relieving. Trying.
Waiting.

Hoping to find a way inside. In her thoughts.
Her heart. Maybe.
Maybe he will. Maybe she will let him.
It feels too right. She fits against him like a puzzle piece.
The piece that's been missing for too long.

A small sliver of her back exposed. Her flesh is burning his fingers.
They tremble. Pass over skin so slow.
Another hand runs through the delicate hair on the back of her neck.
Holding, she might break. It's too easy.

Lips ache to feel. Against her. Instead they whisper. Unheard words.
Impossible things. Full of promise. Someday hope.

~/~

“Morning, breakfast?”
She nods. “Thanks.”
Eggs, bacon, normal morning food. Eating was something she forgot to do these days.
Everything left a stale taste in her mouth.
She nibbled, toast and juice placating the tiny growl in her stomach.

Not knowing what to say, or what to do, she slipped into the bathroom.
Cool water soothed, washed. Toothpaste on her finger. Spit, rinse, repeat.
Reflection stared back at her. Unrecognizable.
Dull, inanimate, lackluster. Almost lifeless.

Faucets filled glass, one quick swallow filled her blood.
2 little circles. Tiny bits of quiet relief.
Smooth hair, smooth wrinkled shirt. Deep breath.

Not long now, numbness will set in. Everything will go away.
It will be ok. Just a few more minutes.
Doesn't matter where she is, or where she needs to be.

It's too quiet, and smoke is clouding the air.
AJ is by a large window, canvas in front of him.
His brush is running, racing across the rough white frame.
Brilliant bursts of color bleed, overflowing.

“Wow” she's left stunned, watching him.
He looks so focused, determined. Fulfilled.
He turns, grinning a simple crooked smile.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt”
Nodding, he turns back, continuing. Sweeping with ease.
Creating beautiful things, found.
She spins back, towards the door.
He stops, hearing her light footsteps. Still facing the canvas.
“Don't go”
…

She blinks, once, twice, breathes in, and out.
Swallowing hard, a quiet sigh.
Her feeble legs place her in a worn gray armchair. By one of the large windows.
Close enough to see him work, to hear the creation.
She lets her head fall back as her eyes close, feeling the drugs work her system.
Tingly, relaxed.
A million spiders are crawling down her arms, over her chest.
They move, to her fingertips, in her hair, over her stomach, cover her legs.
Hot air expels from her lungs, broken. Uneven.
Limp. Heart rate slows, and beats so loud. She can feel it in her ears.
Pulsing.

Her glazed eyes shuffle, finding him again.
His back is tense, moving in a steady rhythm.
Bare arms dance, muscles contract and expand.
Brushstroke after stroke. The picture is blurry, to her.
But still so amazing, so ultimate. Un and indescribable.
All she can see is colors, mixing and mingling. She's envious.

She wants to be that free, she wants to let it all over take her.
Splatter everything out, into the open. In a magnificent offering.
Like him.
Another reason, another lesson she didn't want to learn.
She already knew. He was too great. She would never be.

Heavy lids fell, fighting to close.
The music played, dimly, just enough. But somehow sounded distorted in her ears.
Voices pouring out, hearts and breaks. Too much love and lost.
She didn't like the way it made her feel, she didn't like the steady stream of tears she knew were about to come.
All the thoughts ran rampant in her head, but her body remained still.
Glued, and stuck. Melded to the chair.
She squeezed her eyes shut, as tight as they would go. Trying to force it all out.
Maybe one more pill, maybe two more.

Eventually, it would go away. It had to.
Her palms ran down her jeans, shaking.
It was taking too much time, time she didn't have.
She's been around him too long, long enough for him to notice the cracks.
Her pocket felt heavy, just one more, just one more.
One more that went down so easy.
He needed a break, some coffee, another cigarette.
A little air. Streaming in from an open window. Cool breeze.
Misty, and foggy. A dark early afternoon.

She was still, curled up in his favorite old chair.
He didn't know if she had fallen asleep, even though she didn't look peaceful.
Her teeth showed, nipping and catching on her reddened lips.
His fingers wanted to pull it away, use his own lips to soothe.
Instead, his bare feet rested on the faded cold wood floor. With his elbows limp over his knees.
Breathing white smoke. Drinking black coffee. Watching her.

He remembered her talking about painting classes, wondering if he could help her again.
She hadn't mentioned it, or much of anything else lately.
It seemed she was fading away. Too far away.
Could he save her? He sure as hell wanted to try.

“Here I am expecting a little too much from the wounded”

Embers were burned out and tossed into a filled tray.
He drank the last bit of coffee, and stood up.
Blood rushed to his head, and his feet, prickling.
Shaking it off, he came towards her, kneeling.
His thumb trailed the soft blush of her cheek, she felt too warm.
“Tayr? Hey pretty girl, you ok?” His voice was almost a whisper.
A tiny groan escaped her lips, with a furrow of her brow.
“Mmhmm. Just...sleepy”
“Why don't you go lay down in bed? Taryn? Do you need me to help you?”
Her eyes remained closed, her lips unmoving.
He steadied himself, encasing her into his arms. Her body gently relieved to the bed.
He sat at her side, covering her small body with an old quilt.
Hands found her face again, tracing and smoothing worried lines.
Lips kissed her forehead once more, and left her to dream.