Angelina Graham (18)
November 13th, 2019
The car has been parked for ten minutes now
My hands gripped to the wheel
Eyes trained on black nails on black leather
Ignoring the trembling that crawls under my skin
All loose sinew and fatty strings
I am fine.
I have always been fine.
I am fine and safe and in control.
Unlocking the doors takes five minutes
Fixing my hair in the mirror takes ten
Leave the car in thirty
And greet my dad in one
I had a lot of fun.
The drive home was safe.
It was a nice night, I’m happy.
I’m going to bed now.
I’m in my room and my door is locked
Leaning against the door is nice until
Until I’m sliding down the side
Until the jewelry hooks raise red skin
Until I can’t breathe why can’t I breathe
I shouldn’t be here why
Why is my car in the driveway I don’t understand
I’m home and I’m alive but I can’t breathe
And my chest hurts
My eyes hurt
My brain is red and melting for release
I can’t breathe and carpet is tickling my nose
The carpet itches and my chest hurts and
I wake up at eight.
I pick myself off the ground.
I change from last night’s dress.
I am fine.
I eat cereal for breakfast.
I am fine.
I write the notes and store them in my drawer.
I am fine.
I walk by my car and spit on the dirt.
Angelina Graham is a South Floridian teenager, college freshman, failed one-time stand-up comedian, vampire enthusiast, supporter of bowl cuts, and wearer of tall shoes. Mainly writing from the corner of her bedroom, Graham’s main goal is to translate her experience within the world into pieces of fiction and truth for others to experience.
November 13th, 2019
The car has been parked for ten minutes now
My hands gripped to the wheel
Eyes trained on black nails on black leather
Ignoring the trembling that crawls under my skin
All loose sinew and fatty strings
I am fine.
I have always been fine.
I am fine and safe and in control.
Unlocking the doors takes five minutes
Fixing my hair in the mirror takes ten
Leave the car in thirty
And greet my dad in one
I had a lot of fun.
The drive home was safe.
It was a nice night, I’m happy.
I’m going to bed now.
I’m in my room and my door is locked
Leaning against the door is nice until
Until I’m sliding down the side
Until the jewelry hooks raise red skin
Until I can’t breathe why can’t I breathe
I shouldn’t be here why
Why is my car in the driveway I don’t understand
I’m home and I’m alive but I can’t breathe
And my chest hurts
My eyes hurt
My brain is red and melting for release
I can’t breathe and carpet is tickling my nose
The carpet itches and my chest hurts and
I wake up at eight.
I pick myself off the ground.
I change from last night’s dress.
I am fine.
I eat cereal for breakfast.
I am fine.
I write the notes and store them in my drawer.
I am fine.
I walk by my car and spit on the dirt.
Angelina Graham is a South Floridian teenager, college freshman, failed one-time stand-up comedian, vampire enthusiast, supporter of bowl cuts, and wearer of tall shoes. Mainly writing from the corner of her bedroom, Graham’s main goal is to translate her experience within the world into pieces of fiction and truth for others to experience.