The words are crisp on the glowing screen of my laptop.
I know what they say.
But I can’t say them.
They break up in my mouth as I chew them, tearing open my gums. I taste blood as the shards tumble from my mouth, too many, too fast to catch them.
I look up. Everyone looks at me, anticipating that I have lost my mind. Maybe I have. I know I have, but I refuse to let that matter.
There are crows looming, grazing the florescent lights above with their flesh-eating beaks. I don’t know who keeps letting the crows in the conference room.
I look back at the screen, stuttering through three of the words that I myself wrote.
They must think I’m such a douche.
The bum standing in the corner wants me to think that the blood dripping from his fingertips is mine. I gaze at his black eyes.
Come and get me you motherfucker, I start to say, but then my best friend sits next to me in one of those strange black chairs. He smiles at me, and holds my hand under the table. He’s not really there; he doesn’t work there and no one else can see him, but I don’t care.
I can see him.
“Positivity is as positivity does.” -Allie Burke