Ballerina

Sleek, cold bar under her right hand. Legs bent at an odd angle. The tips of her toes pointed to the floor. One breath of air, then two. The mirror reflected her face. Her tired smile. Thin, rosy cheeks. Hair in a tight bun, her fly aways slicked back.

 One breath, two. Her tutu felt soft on her hand. Her arm lifted over her head, her legs went down in a plie position. Her ankles cracked. She fell down the rabbit hole. Dust, that’s the only thing left of her now.

The End

The sky was blood red. The clouds were vapor, and my heart was the stone. What type of planet is this? We create just to watch it die. We invent just to watch it fail. But I’m still here. Standing in the middle of the crossroad. Where am I? Who am I? No trees, why? So many questions, but too short a time.

Where’s the wind? And where is the sun? Is this the end now?

 Dark, it’s dark now. I’m cold, so cold. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid.

 I’m afraid.

She

She talks loud enough to hear. She laughs till her voice turns raw. She smiles until the last person stops. Provides and provides. Failing grades and fading smiles. No one listens. No one hears. Skin against skin, bone against bone. A reminder to stop. If you can’t take care of the life you provide. Her eating disorder captures her mind.

Dancing to music by herself in her room. Talking to air, but she hears an answer. Consumed by a feeling, a feeling that can’t be described. A beautiful girl, that’s always declined.