It’s ten-thirty-two in the morning and I’m sitting on a bench. I’ve been waiting for what feels like hours. For nothing. A bird flies overhead. The bird doesn’t like you. The bird just wants to fly. I wish I could fly. There have been days where I wish wings could just burst out of my shoulder blades and take me into the skies. You’ll never fly.My brother said he’d meet me here. It’s three minutes past the time he said he’d be here. He’s not coming. Maybe he ran into an old friend. Maybe he thinks you’re crazy. Maybe he forgot he was meeting me. Maybe he thinks you’re not worth meeting. Whatever the reason, it’s nice to be outside. I don’t get to do this very often. Usually I sit in my house. Alone. with nothing to do but watch television. Only more voices to add to your head. He said we’d get coffee. Coffee makes you sick. Coffee is bad for you. I think I’d rather get tea and a scone. You pansy. You’re not worth meeting. You would think my brother would be here by now. But he’s not coming. He said, “Come on, Lucy. Just come outside and meet me tomorrow. You won’t regret it.” Yes, you will. So far I don’t. It’s beautiful out here. That’s because you’re uglier than everything else. The sky is blue. How your skin should be.The flowers are in bloom. Like you never were. And I know that my brother will come see me for the first time in years. If you only knew…

{from Jan. 2011}


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