One of those Days

It's one of those days where you wish you could peel the date off the calendar and burn it so that you never have to deal with it again. I know, I knew from
the moment I woke up, and I know that days should never begin like this. Days should never begin like this.

The fluorescent lighting, its empty buzz, and its dimming, spastic flickers, I know how it makes our skin paler and blue tipped veins peek through the
translucent layers of our hands, and I know it gives you headaches and how it gives me an excuse to daydream.

I know the way my bare skin sticks to hard plastic and metal, and how I can sleep over a table and books nearly as well as I can my own bed, and I know how to
drown out her voice into the near and ever-present titter of background music, and how sometimes no matter how hard I try the words still creep through muffled ears and settle between my voice and your ears and the breathless abyss we've set between us.

I know the window, and how I'm too far away from it, and how the vast blue-grey sky stretches across the barren wasteland of suburbia, elongated fingertips
reaching for the tenebrous line that separates earth from sky and thought from tongue, and I know the virtual embodiment of a being that would die to soar
across the distance between us just to see if the azul sky could peak through the skeletal cracks in the cloud forms and break into color.

I should know the difference between exponential fractions and how to solve for tangents and x+y divided by ½, I should know the date of Magellans first voyage and it's cultural importance, I should know the birth of Humanism and how it influenced the Rennaisance and why you still put up with me, but I'm too busy staring at the graceful tilt of your neckline, or your white-moon smile- depending on where you're sitting and what I'm feeling- to pay attention to anything else at all.

And I know we don't need to analyze that or talk about this, especially when the day is hard enough, we don't need to cry or fight or scream or fear or refuse
to touch, especially when the bell is so close to ringing and the day is so close to ending, especially when we're all about to shuffle out so it can all be
over. I know that I only have to endure the silence and breaking difference between memory and distance for just a little while longer. I know that I can pass
the time from now till oblivion by watching the perfect way the light hits your hair in the rare and beautiful moments when the sun decides that it's time to grace the world with its presence.

And I know that this is high school, and that it is all at once short and tragic and terribly ephemeral, and I know that we have a lifetime to separate the
strings and that it's unwise and impractical to begin tying knots.I know that you will be here tomorrow, and I will be here tomorrow, and I know that we may
not have enough time to peel the days away. I can already feel your mouth covering mine and I already know how you will stop the words and all at once the
silence between them. I know that today is one of those days, it's one of those days that begun like that but can end like this. Let's make it end like this.

About the author:

Victoria Campbell lives and writes in San Antonio, Texas. So far, she has been accused of being reckless, vain, headstrong, cocksure, romantic, hopeless, incorrigible, and the color purple. Mostly, she is just loud. This is her first publication."