First draft and it still needs work, but would love your impressions.
Shhh!
Talk quietly,
lean in,
bend an ear.
If we whisper,
They won’t be able to hear.
Now,
I want to tell you,
I want to but I can’t tell you,
you wouldn’t believe me.
You wouldn’t understand,
They have been after me for so long
I almost can’t even remember
when They weren’t there.
The things They have done to me!
Things you wouldn’t believe.
Look
Look!
I have the scars to prove it.
He pulls his shirt above his head
pointing,
eyes frantically pleading.
I don’t want to scare you,
but They are everywhere.
You need to be careful,
They are everywhere.
The things I could tell you,
you wouldn’t believe.
Let me tell you,
they have stopped me,
stopped me from
succeeding
from graduating
you know,
from getting a job.
People have pretended
to be my friend,
but really it’s Them.
Believe me.
You’ve got to believe me.
Shhh!
Now listen,
I need you
to call this number
Paper is passed
under the table,
reluctant hand accepts
and folds it
disappearing
in jean pocket.
Just call.
Say it’s from me.
Don’t tell them where I am,
they’ll know what to do.
Eyes widen,
as he sits up straight
although nothing happened
awkwardly holding his head high.
Here They come.
Don’t tell Them.
They are in on it too,
They are all in on it.
What I’ve told you...
no one can be trusted.
No one!
you understand...
no one
he whispers
the last bit
a secret.
I see the woman coming over,
my time is up.
“I love you”
I say
For a moment
his eyes become still
he sees me
more frightened by those words
than by the “Them” after him.
I reach over,
he flinches
almost surprised
he forces himself to stay
still, under the
gentle touch.
It’s going to be all right.
Don’t you worry
sister.
I’ll always look after you.
Warm smile
so achingly familiar
brightens his face,
before it fades
a fallen star
gone.
The woman comes over.
It is time to go.
“I love You”
He doesn’t hear me.
I walk away,
relieved to be leaving
but I look over my shoulder
at the large form now small
sitting at the plastic table
alone
lost
and I leave.
Outside,
I take the piece of paper
hesitantly opening
hoping against hope.
Can I believe?
How can I not?
Illegible scribbles
blare
lost in the white space
of nothing.
I place it in the trash can.
