Dr. Stern

Hidden in Plain Sight

I’m the child who lets go of her balloon on purpose

because the sadness that follows - I surely deserved it

I’m the stoner they threw stones at

because back then I never fought back

I’m the girl you graduate with

but you never even know I exist

until I show up on the news

with both fists black and blue

The Quick Fix

What is it called when a person loves somebody who does not love them back? 

Unrequited love.

No, no. that’s too simple. The raw, heated emotions induced by this torture could never be contained within five syllables. The disappointment suffocating the lungs and creeping up the esophagus each morning would burst through two words like a balloon filled with too much helium, leaving the victim as a wrinkly, deflated mess. Often leaving the victim unrecognizable.

It’s so much more than unrequited love. It’s choking on unsaid words and nostalgia as a former lover lingers in the arms of another. It’s tearing up each morning as you stare into the mirror and realize that you are the reason they’re not here. You bleed from every pore, dripping bodily fluids and staining your floor, because nothing matters without them.

You lay awake at night. You’re haunted by everything you could have said. If you could just be a little softer, a little less clingy, maybe they wouldn’t leave. Maybe you’d have fate on your side for once in your godforsaken life. You’re far too tired to sleep, and maybe your body doesn’t need it anyway since you’ve spent the last two weeks in your bed.

On the rare occasions you do stumble out from your chamber, you feel lost in your own home, just as you’re lost in the world, lost without them. Trapped. Because how do you stop feeling? How do you get out? You can google map search for step by step directions to any place on earth but you can’t find the trail that leads out of your own mind. The thoughts that bombard you constantly, every moment of every day, the daydreams of glamorized of homicide. 

Love….

It’s enough to kill for, isn’t it?

Who hasn’t heard tell of Romeo and his girl and the deaths that fall in between lines that you read. To kill in their honor, to fend off the offender in their name; well, that’s pretty noble, isn’t it? Surely if the new interest were out of the way, they’d realize their mistake and come back to your arms. Without you, there’s no point to them either. You’re both halves, and without the other you’re nothing. Yes. Invade their home and saunter into the bedroom. Show them the blood you’ve taken in the name of love. If they’ve any sense at all they’d admire your gusto, and, if not… There’s an easy fix for that as well.

After all, if you can’t have them, nobody can.