Member Poem

“It’s beautiful isn’t it? I mean just look at it! What a simple yet so complex piece of - dare I say -

art!” she says to no one, her delicate but strong hands wrapped around a mug of steaming hot

cocoa with three marshmallows floating lazily around the chocolaty lake. The rim is permanently

stained from years of her soft, lipstick-stained lips kissing the cup. She boards the subway of her

thoughts which continues on its rails as she sits by her only window in her apartment. She enjoys

being able to mentally wander the way Dionysus once wandered in search of nothing until

he was taken by the worst of all his creatures: man. As her mental subway travels along, they

stop at platforms in her memories, and she watches. From Halloween parties to first kisses to the

first time she let herself be taken. All of a sudden, her train car stops, and she steps off. She sees

trees form as the platform fades away to a grand forest, and she feels herself shrink. Her eyes tear

up as the memory sneaks upon her, and she takes the place of the little girl. She looks around 

frantically and knows she is lost. And just as she tries to control her breathing, a monster

breathes fire onto her blanket. The little girl tries to run. She runs and runs and as her thoughts

race, her nose flares. Her ears pick up on the sound of her tears falling into her hot chocolate,

throwing off its balance of chocolate and marshmallow. Just as her hands slowly, mechanically

move the mug to her lips, the monster finally catches her. Her vision is flooded with the sight of

rotten leaves and decaying pumpkins. There is fire, and there is smoke. Her arms and legs ache

as her flesh melts away, leaving only a skeleton with bruised and broken bones. She shrieks with

no vocal cords. But her angel in blue arrives, and her flesh reforms, though her wounds yet pulse

with pain. The image of this angel fills her mind’s eye, so she breaks from the monster's grip and

sees it for what it is. It does not exist. And this battle is only waged in her mind. The only things

changing in reality are her expressions as she watches the flames burn below her. She finishes

her hot cocoa, leaving the mug to hover on the edge of her bottom lip which trembles faintly.

She’s back to the present as she hears her blue angel say: “Goddamn, did those kids start another

fire in the old Applebee’s again? I swear to God, they are gonna end up catching that building on

fire.” The angel walks to the woman with the mug, woven in a purple blanket, lost to the window

which has a view of nothing but Applebee’s. She wraps her arms around her waist.

They sit this way together as they both watch silently as firefighters arrive to put out the fire.