Expiration Date.

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EXPIRATION DATE

February. She lies wide awake, listening to the steady beat of the alarm clock, willing herself to concentrate on the sound long enough for it to drown out the other noise

The explosions in her head
The earthquakes that threaten to split her apart

tick tock tick tock tick tock

April. I am drowning. My lungs are not my lungs anymore. Darkness, my old friend, where are you? Come back to me.

May. She dreams of the woods where they once used to play
The days of her youth that now seem so far away
She hears his laugh, so beautiful, so innocent, so alive
And relishes once again in the world where forever meant always

They run hand-in-hand to the field of dandelions
Their silhouettes vivid against the setting sun

And he turns to her and whispers — wake up. Wake up! Wake up!

She opens her journal and begins to write, I fear this pain will never end.

June. The pain hits her again as it always does. It comes in waves, washing over her like a tsunami; leaving her breathless in its wake.

She traces trembling fingers over the picture that was taken
Just 5 hours before the crash, barely recognizing herself, the girl with the bright eyes and an even brighter smile.

Dear God. She pleads, as she always does. I need you. Please help me.

September. The signs are there. They are evident in the rustling of the leaves above her, and the pitter patter of the rain against her window as she sleeps

They are evident in the faces of the strangers she passes on the bustling streets, a melting pot of lines and colors and shapes

They are evident in the eyes of lovers as they gaze at one another, their body language a kind of poetry of its own

They are evident in the way the sun rises and sets every day, in the way she wakes up each morning with the scars of the past slowly fading, making room for
rebirth and life and hope

January. She opens her journal…

I fear this pain will never end.

{S.M.}

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