LXX | Some Feelings
❦
I see confusion
in Asher’s eyes.
He’s tilted his head,
plastic ear pointed at me
instinctively.
To hear me better.
That’s not the problem though.
His fingers twitch.
Shaking.
He’s scared.
The fear makes its way
into his eyes.
Along with
shame.
I’m sure
that’s also
reflected
in mine.
He leaves before I can be sure
it’s really guilt in his eyes.
He doesn’t come back
even though I wait,
paint drying out my brush.
The sky darkens.
There’s no sun today.
No moon either.
Moonlight Sonata
whispers through the walls.
I move
at last,
like the other patients,
one leg numb.
I notice
there’s a new patient
in Urei’s armchair.
David. That’s his name.
Unlike Urei,
he doesn’t shut up—keeps whispering under his breath.
Tammie’s turned away from me,
staring at him.
Asher refuses to look at me.
❦
Alone again tonight,
I’m sweaty
even without the blanket.
The sleeping LED light
taunts me from above.
I think about
Asher
instead of Tammie.
Our conversation.
What I said wrong.
I don’t understand.
The questions
he asked.
He has memories too.
A story he once told.
I blame the blue paintbrush
for not covering up
the word
I painted onto the carpet.
His plastic ear
had once been a real ear.
The one who tore it off
had once been
alive.
His expression,
I remember vaguely,
intense,
clouded,
angry.
I still do it—
killing her.
Over and over again.
If I’m dead,
maybe Tammie
will also forgive me for ruining her life.
As soon as I’m back from taking my medicine,
I plant myself
directly in front of Asher.
I don’t move
even when he’s escorted
to take his medicine.
He looks at me
then,
because it’s bewildering
to him.
Different emotions flash
like stop-motion across his face
keeping time
with David’s whispering.
His hair
is longer now,
standing in wild grassy clumps.
I run my hand
(self-consciously?)
through my own tangled hair.
Moonlight Sonata stops
and I grab his arm
before he can escape.
The plain nurse watches from afar,
just to be safe.
He’s small,
but like that time
when he strangled me,
he’s strong.
I’m wrenched
away.
I catch him again.
He’s annoyed now, for sure.
But he turns
to yank me off
and I see anguish.
Asher. Asher. Asher.
I follow him
like a parasite
into the guys’ bathroom.
He grabs a random set of clothes
and ducks into a cubicle.
I wedge myself
in between
so he has no choice
but to
let go
of the door
or crush me.
I close it behind me.
‘No.’
His voice is firm.
You asked first.
I’m uncertain now.
‘No,’
he says again.
You want to.
‘No!’
His voice is angry.
But he’s shaking.
He’s hard.
And then,
he’s crying.
❦
