Page 54 - HEF Pen & Ink 2020

GRASS
by Sam Noble
i lie on my back in the lush green grass and watch as the sky paints a picture. clouds swirl, combining
and then dispersing, images here one moment and gone the next. i see
you in the clouds, but don’t take that as a compliment. i roll over so i don’t have to look
at your fluffy white face because it’s
gross. i press my skin to the earth and inhale deeply, a smell of spring filling my nostrils. you were here last spring but now you are gone and i don’t feel bad. you deserved
everything that happened to you
because your sins were so great that
all the blood in the world couldn’t cover your sick stains. an ant crawls across my
arm and its tiny feet tickle my
skin with almost unnoticeable
grace. your touches were always
noticeable; they hurt me. you were not
gentle with my body or my
soul, and now both are eternally damaged
due to your dirty hands. you sick
bastard! i wish i could expose you to the
whole entire world but i know that if i speak even one small word, you will
end me. you have never
cared about anyone but yourself. protect
your reputation and lie to cover your
despicable actions, but i know the
truth. the truth is that you are the worst
thing that ever happened to me, and i hope
that you suffer forever in hell. the truth is--
a raindrop splashes against my
neck. i look back to the sky and see that
gray storm clouds have replaced the
soft white ones from earlier in the
day. another drop adorns my
forehead and slowly trickles down into my
eye, where its pure blue
intertwines with the buildup of salt
beneath my eyelid. the truth is--
my clothes are soaked as the heavens
pour out their sorrows upon the bleak
landscape that has been parched since
before time began. it sobs uncontrollably
and i just want to comfort it and say that everything will be okay but that is a
lie, everything will not be okay as long
as you still haunt my memories and come to
me at night in my dreams, as long as you
52
THE MEADOW
by Nico Bungi
stab my soul the same way that you once stabbed me with the dagger beneath your jeans, as long as i am still alive. i am running over hills but the grass is slippery with tears and i don’t
know if they are mine or the sky’s and i fall hard. mud covers my knees and i
turn my face upward and
scream from my soul, an
explosion of pain and frustration and anger and sorrow and lost
innocence and brokenness and i collapse. the truth is --
the truth is that you are gone forever and despite the way you violated me i still miss you and i hate to admit that i can’t seem to purge you from my heart, you are a disease that i can’t shake, a
chronic ache that will always be with me, your own dissatisfaction with
life taken out upon my frail helpless body, and one day maybe i will
forget you, but i doubt that day will ever come. i realize that i am still sitting in the mud, my jeans soaked and brown, my face speckled with dirty water. i stand and trudge up the
hill, concentrating to avoid slipping on the
slick grass. the torrent has slowed but the
sky still trickles tears down upon the
earth. in the wake of its sadness new growth has begun to emerge, a
promise of better days to come.