Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Locked from the INSIDE

Her hand trembling
She tries to reach for a bandage.
A chaotic mind, tense body and throbbing arm
The gauze rolls off the shelf and on to the floor,
making its way behind the sink.

Stretching her arm she inches the roll forward with the tips of her fingers.

It’s dripping now.
What a

Tearing off a piece with her teeth, tastes funny.
She tries to wrap it tightly.
Her attempt resembles a child’s first effort at tying a bow.

Its gotta

Inhaling quickly while clenching her teeth,
Her jaw is sore.
She tries again.
She finds the scissors, cuts a decent sized piece and tries to s l o w her movement,
As her mind is panicking.

Wrap it, and wrap it tight!
She can feel her heart beating in her arm.
One b e a t after another.

Tying one knot on top of another,
it looks like it will stay.
It doesn’t look

Glancing at the room she realizes the disaster around her.
Double-checking to make sure the doors locked,
she decides to start with the sink.

Holding the bag from the stainless steal trash bin in one hand,
With soggy toilet paper she wipes up the
streams of her.
Chucking the tie-dyed pieces in the bag quickly.

She moves to the floor.
Unrolling more and
toilet paper.
There sure is a lot.

On hands and knees
she makes sure to get every

Like lightning she shoots up, standing straight.
She realizes it’s all over her tattered jeans.

Taking another roll of toilet paper.
She attempts to wipe it away,
but its still visible and it won’t

Madly rubbing her pants she’s only making a
Bigger mess of

It was an accident,
a moment of weakness.

The scars say something different.

She throws on her black sweatshirt, letting the hood cover the top of her face.
She closes her eyes.
Opening them she sees
pretty spots.
The room narrows and narrows some more,
as she feels her body

A hard THUD soon followed by a loud

Heavy footsteps echo through the hall.
They’re getting louder.

A bang on the door.
The knob rattles.
from the inside.

It flows from her arm and into the cracks of their pristine white tile;
Creating a unsettling picture among the groves.
Surrounding her.

The door stops shaking, the knob is still.
Footsteps back away and then return.
Faster and heavier than before.

The doorframe cracks, paint chips fly and tumble to the ground,
as the door screams across the room and into the wall.
The mirror shatters.

Crouching to her
he pulls up her limb body
holding her arm tight with a cloth.

Straightening one leg after another
He picks up her motionless body and cradles her head.
Tears dripping off his face.

Down the stairs
Out the door
And rushed to help
Someone please


Tatum Reid said...

You amaze me with the small attention you pay to detail: sound , touch , smell -it makes the poem come alive!

Carrie Amie said...

When I took my writing course (the one that inspired me to write more often) my teacher sounded like a broken record.
Always saying...
"don't tell me what is happening"
ie. the girl is crying
"show me what is happening"
ie. it began with a single salty tear that tumbled down her face and off her chin.
Its amazing what you can show without even saying what is happening.
Thanks for your comment once again. I want to write more and more!

Kenzie said...

Hey there. I noticed you commented on my question about getting your blog turned into a book. Well, check out www.lulu.com and follow the steps there to do that. I have not figured out how to upload all the info, so I am learning! Check back with my blot and leave a comment and I will give you any info I learn.
I like your blog by the way. Keep up the beautiful writing.