Campfire

Around a campfire at night, two young adults who have just met sit and mingle awkwardly. One wants to say something to the other, but cannot find the strength to voice the words.

The fire flickers furiously,

as if it is struggling to breathe.

The wood pulsates a glow of red like a beating heart.

The smoke rises up,

pushing in every slight direction from a blow of wind from my lips,

and the cloud and its entirety revolves around like a light house's light,

burning my eyes to tears.

 

Animals about enact various stages of the night.

Some lie with their eyes closed,

heads in their paws,

bathing in the heat of the fire.

Others play about,

wrestling with one another,

another,

their rear in the air and their head hidden in a pot twice their size,

searching for scraps at the bottom.

 

It's just me and you.

 

We converse sometimes,

you laugh,

I laugh,

sometimes we don't.

I take a swig of the strong stuff,

you take a swig of the strong stuff,

but I have taken more swigs.

 

In general I feel calm,

a continuous night of drinking is taking its toll on my mind,

and it numbs me to the cold that surrounds us.

 

I glance at you occasionally as you sit two or three steps away from me.

Your hair that earlier that night sat to one side,

it's soft fuzziness,

in a tone of a black,

more of a very genuine dark grey,

is pulled into a bun.

Your eyes focused on the fire,

your eyelids are closed in a way that you appear that you will fall asleep at anytime,

your pupils directed at the fire.

 

I look back at the fire.

I don't want you to notice me looking at you.

I try to think of something to say,

but I determine it's too dumb,

you'll just think I'm weird if I say it.

I decide it's better to hold my tongue.

 

Our friend comes back.

Your eyes light up and you begin to laugh.

You walk away with him.

I can feel my heart sink,

a pulling at my chest,

this incredible heaviness there.

 

I inhale deep and exhale,

some of that tension is relieved but it returns at a casual and steady pace,

my mind is not at ease.

I can feel something pulling my spirit down,

my blank expression falls into a frown.

I try to force a smile and laugh at what just happened.

 

This whole night I wanted your eyes to gaze at me the way my eyes gaze at you,

but if you did I would probably pull my eyes away,

but if our eyes did even meet for a second,

and I felt the meaning from yours was the same as mine,

you wouldn't know the joy that would swell inside me because my shyness and timidness prevents me from sharing,

would I blush?

I would like to think so,

but reality tends to be so different from what I visualize in my head.

 

This whole night I wanted to tell you,

I like you,

I like you a lot,

more than a friend,

but I keep thinking in my head that you would laugh,

tell me in this tone that is trying to be soothing but is ultimately rejecting my advance,

like every other girl that has done before me.

 

But I will not hear it,

at least not tonight,

 

I missed my chance.

 

I fall backwards onto the cold ground.

I gaze up at the stars,

their flicker dampened by the smoke that has taken upon itself to bubble in my direction.

I feel the cold entering my body,

I take it happily bearing through it as punishment,

All the memories of relationships that never were,

race through my mind,

it's a long trip,

like speeding through the Mojave alone,

bill boards with still images on both sides of this empty highway,

there to remind me of so many incidents in the past,

I sigh.

 

For just one split moment I picture myself saying it,

I'm nervous and shaking,

but you look in my direction and smile,

your eyes light up,

you don't say anything,

but you walk over and sit next to me,

smiling.

 

I think one last thought before I black out,

 

what a nice thought.

Author's Note

It's written in spoken format so there are bound to be grammar errors. I do appreciate criticism, so please do share your opinions and how it can be better.