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Display. Window
By
Jessica Singleton


  It looks out at me too.


                       1


The sky looks like a water color painting of a kaleidoscope.
I think it's like that phrase in the eyes of the beholder.  It's like an ink blot test that you have to define to a question.

Does it remind you of your childhood or does it make you feel anything?

I don't take those drinks at the bar any longer.

I walk the gold fish instead of the dog.

I remember my great aunt Betty makes apple cake for New Year's Eve.

That is not a point.
They just want me to talk.

Because they base my opinion on a fact.

My opinion is not in the encyclopedia.

I go for drives at midnight sometimes.

Because no one is around.

Well I used to drive. Not anymore.
I'm half blind now.

My only passion is reading now.

Anyway I used to drive.
I wanted to breathe and get away.
Now I am so isolated that I feel like I am in that moment when you realize that the person in the horror movie is about to know real fear.

That or the dream is to the point of irony.

I'm not asleep.
Sadly I am awake.
I told again.

I cannot take this pain anymore.

I'm not going to kill my self but I am close to understanding ink blot tests.

Because I can't talk about it in facts.
So now I'm explaining art exhibits in silent films.
I have never known such rage and abuse.
Not since childhood.

They feed off neglect and ignorance.
Someone told me that if I was fat and I did not please their eyes that I would die.
Someone else suggested that I should take notes.
Tolerance is not acceptance.
I did not earn this and I will not write a speech.

                               2

Counting owls
By
Jessica Singleton

Jackets for the winter holidays.
Below this belt is your dignity.
That is why your hands are tied with the hope in your ignorance.
Good luck.