first date

a person inside yourself

She thrusts herself outside of her house, tears burning her eyes and throat. Her chunky black shoes knock against the strip of sky pavement, every step interrupting her thought. She soaks in the neighborhood--neighbors dragging in their green recycling bins, children playing and laughing, trumpets coming from the mariachis down the street. She gets angry at the salt on her face and rubs at it violently, each tear stinging more than the last. She is lost.
She feels trapped inside her house, a place where she no longer feels at home. She may walk her neighborhood a hundred times over but she doesn't know it anymore. She is searching for love. She lays down on the grass of strange houses, feeling what it is like on the greener side. She longs for it. She will walk past each house and look into other people's happy or tragic lives. She runs her fingers along red and blue cars, flowerbeds, and the whitewashed sides of homes. She stands outside each house and flees from each one that lights up when she passes by. Her eyes that used to be clear and blue with a bright yellow sunburst in the center are now tainted with dust and fog, a blue-gray, grown weary from such a lengthy love journey. She longs to be gone, away from everything and everyone she once loved and find something new that will wrap its arms around her, keeping her safe and content. She hopes for color, bright reds and yellows, but is sick of the giant disgusting flowers she used to paint on a happy, unsuspecting day. Love eludes her, for every time she feels she may have a grasp on it, it bends its bones and slips out of her bruised hands. "Will anyone think of me as a love?" she asks herself, and closes her eyes.

posted by carlygarza @ 10:40 PM