Deep
Dear _____,
I laugh when I hear that her intellect has inspired a new piece of writing; people think they're 'deep' and people aren't right. I turn to the window and watch as my reflection places its hand on my cheek and slowly grazes the smoothness of my skin and I can't help but pretend as I close my eyes that it's her hand on my face. It doesn't work - my hands are hard and worn from years of instrument bruising and hers are a soft velvet glove. Deep, I say again to myself, that's funny.
The clay figurine in my foyer stands with its hands holding a knife in its chest while a continuous stream of water flows from the gaping hole where his heart would have been were he a real human being. When no one is looking, I walk over to the bleeding statue and put my palm on his breast as if to stop the flow of blood from his heart. It doesn't work - I can't fix him, and I don't know why I ever tried in the first place. The blade runs too deep, I say to myself, and I reach down and unplug the electrical display, stopping the flow of blood, ending the man's chronic agonizing pain. I feel relieved and I walk back downstairs and try to remember what I was doing for the past 2 months of my life.
Love,
Kelly f. Logue
I laugh when I hear that her intellect has inspired a new piece of writing; people think they're 'deep' and people aren't right. I turn to the window and watch as my reflection places its hand on my cheek and slowly grazes the smoothness of my skin and I can't help but pretend as I close my eyes that it's her hand on my face. It doesn't work - my hands are hard and worn from years of instrument bruising and hers are a soft velvet glove. Deep, I say again to myself, that's funny.
The clay figurine in my foyer stands with its hands holding a knife in its chest while a continuous stream of water flows from the gaping hole where his heart would have been were he a real human being. When no one is looking, I walk over to the bleeding statue and put my palm on his breast as if to stop the flow of blood from his heart. It doesn't work - I can't fix him, and I don't know why I ever tried in the first place. The blade runs too deep, I say to myself, and I reach down and unplug the electrical display, stopping the flow of blood, ending the man's chronic agonizing pain. I feel relieved and I walk back downstairs and try to remember what I was doing for the past 2 months of my life.
Love,
Kelly f. Logue