more

once again
ana awoke
in pain
nearly a decade of privation
a life lived in total control
driven
to achieve
grades
glances
accolades

the Aggrandizement of
perfection

once again
ana awoke
her joints swollen by her quest
to dance
to control
to own a body
not her own

“we write of pain
of desolation”
her companion spoke from so great distance
an origin unknown
“we write of struggle
of defiant strength.
for in our hearts we are so weak”

ana did not cry
she wrote
“i’m so torn.”
“why?”
“it hurts so much.”
“what?’
“everything. my bones. my heart. my head. my heart.”
“oh, poor little thing. we’re here for you. we’re here.”
“i know. i know. i just…”
“what, hon? what?”
“i just want to be… not… so… alone.”
“yes. i know.”
“i want…
the pain
to stop.”
“it’s okay. breathe.”
“i can’t. breathe. i can’t think. i can’t.”
“what would make it better? right now.”
“idk.”
“something. something warm? a hot cocoa?”
“no.”
“what?”
“i can’t say.”
“it’s okay. i’m here for you. what would make it better?”
“i…”
“ana. what?”
“i
can’t
say.”
“you can tell me anything. anything. what would make it better? in this moment?”
“a kiss.”
“oh, darling. oh…”
“i need. a kiss.”
“x”

ana wiped the wetness from her eyes.
she said it.
at least in part
her true desires
she did not impart

but, in that moment
ana awoke
ana knew she wanted more
and came to realize
ana craved affection
ana wanted

more

(for our friend who disappeared)

© 2009 by ariana sexton-hughes, all rights reserved