I own nothing.

Widow's Valley

What's wrong? He's… He's… god! He's... I can't. No. Don't speak. It hurts; the truth. Makes it oh so real.

He's a pessimist. My father the pessimist. But he's optimistic. No it wasn't his car. They're wrong. They lie. He's just late. He's always late. He'll be here. Nothings wrong. Be hopeful. But he's wrong. Fucking wrong. Stop being so fucking optimistic. Realism. I get it. I understand. He's dead. I know. I feel it. In my bones. My blood. Stop. Stop thinking that way. Just stop. They're not lying. Just tell me the fucking truth. I can take it. Like a band aid . Rip it off. Quick. Painless. Fast.

I can't breath. My throat's closing. No air. Gasping. In. But not out. I can't. It's not working. It doesn't make a difference. I'm not breathing. I can't breath. You can.No. NO. Is this hyperventilating? I get it. I can't breath. No oxygen. Chocking. Urg. I can't breath. I'm going to faint. No. Yes. No. Listen. No.

My throat. It's swelling. What's happening? Like a lump. Filling up. Larger and larger. Stop. Make it stop. My nose. It stings. Burning. Like something bad. Odd sensation. Wipe it. Away. Make it stop. Just stop. My eyes. They sting. Like onions. Like sad movies. Fuck. They're blurry. I can't see anymore. Blink. Blinkblink. Make it stop. I can't. You need to. No. Let it out. Feel better. No. NO. My face. It's wet. With salt. Yes. Tears. Yes. And snot. Yes. I can't. You can. No. My hand. Hiding. Blocking. Covering. Shielding. Wiping away. Boogers. Snot. Slime. Tears. Salty. Black. Oh. Mascara. Liner? Stop. Just stop.

Something's happening. God it hurts. Make it stop. The pain. Just stop. What hurts? My head. God my head. Exploding. Blue. Black. Stars so bright. It's loud. So loud. Turn it down. The pounding. Turn down the pounding. In my head. Stop. Just stop. My heart. It hurts. Like it's bleeding or breaking. Or both. Maybe shattering. Little bits and fragments poking into my veins. Is it pounding? Can you hear it? I can hear it. Feel it? Everywhere. Stop. Just stop. Make it stop. It's Bursting. With what? Pain. I don't understand. Explain to me. It's suppose to do this right? Hurt. Like hell. Worse.

It's harsh against my skin. Rough. Making it raw. More raw. White Kleenex. Against my sensitive skin. Red. Wiping. Over again. Yes. Harder. Make it hurt. I want to feel it. Hurt.

XXX

It's cold. So cold. Like I'm frozen. But it's so hot outside. So fucking hot. I need a fan. Ice. Fan. Way too hot. But it's cold inside. In my head. Cold. Freezing. My heart. Frozen. Numb. And I can't think. I can't. I won't. Stop. These bad thoughts. Make them stop.

Music. No not that one. Please. Anyone but that one. Stop. Change the station. Change the music. Change it. Anything else? Turn it off. Yes off. Stop. Please. No memories. God. Stop. Just stop.

This feeling again. Suffocation is it? A hand around my throat. Squeezing. Tighter. Let go. Please. No. I mean yes. Harder. Together again. Yes. YES.

XXX

The high ceilings. Cathedral. The organ. Loud. Beautiful. Playing. Yes. The angels. Above us. Watching over the pews. Blue. Yellow. Glass. They are blurring. Together. Doesn't that make green? No just blotching yellow and blue.

Everyone in black. The must get a memo. Sorrys don't fix it. Don't make it easier.

And he speaks. Loud and Clear. Like he knows him. He doesn't. Not like I do. Did. No do. Just stop. Lying.

What is that called? The colored window? With the angels? Quiet, he's talking. No he's lying. The window? Stained glass? Yeah, stained glass, that's it.

Was that my name? Did I hear that right? Jude Harrison? That's not my name. Why are they looking at me? You said that really loud. It's Jude Quincy Asshole. Jude!

They fill out. Down the aisle. Our aisle. Where we walked up. Yes.

Down the steps. Out the door. Yes leave. All of you. So we can be together. Alone. Like in bed. Naked. Remember? God I remember. Don't forget. Never forget.Ticklish hands. Hairy legs. Remember? Lips turn up. Wait. It's been a while. Is that a smile? Mmm, I think so.