Title: I Don't Know
Author: Logan M. (Lozateazer)
Disclaimer: They aren't mine. Honest. They belong to Jon Larson. But if he doesn't need them anymore, I'd gladly take them off his hands. And the ending sort of reminds me of the end of Langston Hughes' 'Harlem.' But that's just me. *shrug* If it reminds you of it, know it's completely unintentional.
Summery: Mark POV. It's in between 'What You Own' and 'Finale A.'
Notes: I wrote this while exceedingly depressed… Each thing off Mark's list somehow ties back into my list of reasons to be upset. And about the slight cutting reference, don't freak. Please! I'm better. Really. I am. BTW, Shortest fic I've ever written!
Italics During Mark's List = His reaction to each of those things.
Other Italics = Random ramblings of Mark's brain.
Rating: PG-13
~*~ I Don't Know ~*~
©April 9th, 2003; The Day of Silence.
I can't stop fucking crying. Crystal orbs shower down on my face… Rain, stain, pain… They won't leave! They keep poking at the back of my eyes with their constant questions and accusations… Blame, shame, claim… I don't know what's wrong with me!! My heart is rent apart, torn into a million pieces without warning… Worry, flurry, hurry… When people ask what's wrong I just tell them the truth: I don't know. No.
I don't know anything. No. Maybe that's why I'm crying. No. This… uncertainty may be what's slowly killing me. Know.
I don't know why Angel had to die. Cry.
I don't know why Roger left for Santa Fe. Pray.
I don't know why the girls are fighting. Righting.
I don't know why I quit my job. Slob.
I don't know why I'm still alone. Atone.
I don't know why life is so hard and I definitely don't know if it'll ever amend. End.
I don't know why scabs form on wounds where skin isn't broken. Unspoken.
I don't know what the future has in store… No, not anymore.
But yes, that last one… That last one is the one I'm most frightened of. Scare, bare, tear… Because it's the most ambiguous. When I think of the future, all I see is chaos. Illusion, delusion, confusion… I used to see picket fences and children. A car and a family. Sure, lure, cure… Yet nothing is for sure… In my future I now see a black hole. A black hole that will just wrap me in its velvet pain and refuse to let go. No.
I don't know if when it comes I'll be able to refuse it… Or will I lose it?
~fin~