Still. For Devyn Marie.

still.

I had a dream about zombie tigers
with blood and guts in their teeth.
They were coming for you and me.
We could hear them coming.
and we didn't care.
We were ready for them
and we just stood still.
right there.

-Shannon Masayo

Still
Confined to a cubicle.
Dressed for a funeral. Disconnected.
8 hours at time.
Still, it feels cozy in this coffin.
You get your own name tag and a security pass.
You're a big shot, finally paying those student loans off.
Youth prescribed potential, but you refused to fill the order or talk about politics, cause he's not the one you voted for.
You didn't vote at all.
You just want to ease into your fifties and hope your wife will still fuck you.
Fine. Enjoy your life.
Who am I to tell you you're not living it right?
-Tylor Sherman


Still
“Poor little fella” I said, peering down on a screaming bunny
It lay there with crushed legs, crying
I couldn’t believe how much it sounded like a newborn baby
I couldn’t believe what we had done
I was seven and just trying to be like the older kid
I looked up to him, but now I hated him
I hated myself for not stopping him
I hated myself for joining in
We were just being boys
Throwing rocks at a little bunny
The bunny seemed impossible to hit
But God had a lesson to teach us that day
The older kid shouldered up a rock the size of a grapefruit
He heaved it; success, target devastated
The legs of the bunny were smashed; broken
It screamed and cried, trying to figure out why it deserved this
We approached an knew what we did could not be undone
We tried to make the bunny comfortable
We brought it water and some grass
It laid there suffering, looking us in the eyes
Crying, whimpering, breaking us both apart
I felt like my insides were spilling out all around me
I felt nauseated
I have never felt such disgust in my own actions
We left the bunny for the night, hoping that just maybe it would be miraculously healed by morning
We returned at sunrise
When we got there we heard no whining
We saw no flailing; the bunny lay still
Its body was flattened; its head was caved-in
Someone had crushed it with a rock
Someone finished what we started
But that someone was trying to end its pain, not inflict it
Not like us
We were just boys being boys
But I still live with what I’d done

-Ryan Baker