The Heels

Mental illness struggles.

The Heels

A patter of footsteps, the kind that click-clack

High and proud, a look to the mountains

But a gaze that holds secrets of the bowels of somewhere I never want to go

A patter of angry clack-clicks

How different they are now

How purposeful

And how agonizing

The nose could go no higher, though she tries so hard

I ache to tug her back down as she fights to fly away,

But if there’s one thing I know;

You cant pull some one up if they

Dont even know they are sinking.

Does she know?

Oh, I wish I could tell her, that

No, curtains have no real value.

No I dont care if you lost 2 pounds

No, I really dont care if you’re proud of your work

I care only about you trying to run away

I say it.

You look at me as if I’m handicap

But which one of us is truly happy with themselves?

Perhaps my useless vocabulary and opinions wont get me far,

But will your ambition and self hate fuel you enough

To live even for another moment

You seem ready to explode, it would only take a pin prick

I annoy you

It’s intentional, in everyway I am, I annoy you, if

Only for you to be real, authentic-

But you are composed;

‘I think you shouldnt visit anymore.’

You dont know.

I say that I wont be

She seems surprised, a new rigidity in her hands

‘You should weight your ankles, the sky is not much fun when your feet hurt’

She parts her lips, but something has changed

‘The sky?’ she mouths

I nod, ‘You arent really here, you always try to get away, but dont realize you can.’

She pursed her lips, shaking hands, swiping down black velvet.

‘A body is a body, not a prison.’

She trembled, ‘You aren’t real!’

I nod, ‘No, but even so, I am right.’

Her breath pants, eyes wild of the place I know she’s been

‘Go away. I have to work.’

‘You can make me leave anytime.’

She throws her mug across the room

It shatters the picture on the wall

Of her

She tries to regain control

‘You hurt yourself but not allowing reality in.’

She flinches, ‘You’re one to talk about f*****g reality! You are in my imagination!’

‘That’s your reality isnt it?’

A stapler thrown this time.

Then a paper weight.

‘Why throw things? What are you really trying to get rid of?’

She knelt, hands over ears.

 I thought she might crawl under the desk,

A structure so mundane but essential to her

She does.

A knock on the door

I smile

She glares at me, licking trails into my soul

I’ve never recieved this look before

‘You are angry.’

‘Well spotted!’ She snaps

I extend my hand, ‘Do you want help?’

‘As I’ve said you arent real, you can’t possibly help me!’

I c**k my head, ‘ but you are real. Help yourself.’

It gets worse

But slowly she sinks

Next time I see her

She’s at earth level

The pitter pat of her shoes gone

A squeak and slip

She cannot see me

But she doesnt need to

I watch as her gaze lightens

Paperweights, mugs, and staplers all friends now

A picture replaced with a rainbow

 

 

 

Author's Note

Might be slight grammar issues. ANy feeback welcome.