I Am. (Ch.3)

Scene iii; Butterfly corpses and smoke inhalation1

A nearly unresponsive crowd lurched my skin to the core of my bone marrow. My fingernails turned numb and my tongue went dry. I was just, oh-so-excited. Definitely. Or something like that.2

“Well… I’m just going to play a couple songs tonight.” I tried not to cough but I felt a dust rising inside my esophagus and eating at the lining. My throat was starting to itch uncontrollably and my heart was shaking. I couldn’t really see anything, but I knew that you were supposed to be there. I heard you talking. But these lights were still punching at my retinas and I still wasn’t sure what was going on.3

“Okay. Here it goes, I guess.”4

So I moved my dying fingers and I split my parched lips. I couldn’t believe I was doing this.5

In all honestly, this was my first performance. My first show. I’d been to dozens of sets, maybe even hundreds. I had watched all of those bands up there, screaming their lungs out. Screaming their hearts out. I had watched all of those boys get up their and gently rock their girls to sleep with lullabies on their acoustics. But this was different. This was me.6

I could sit in my bedroom and sings songs to myself; Let them echo in my head a few times until I tore them to pieces and threw them in the trash. That was fine. A waste of my time, sure, but absolutely fine. I could strum a few chords that clashed, and then drop kick them somewhere far off into the universe. Absolutely. But get up here and sing my emotions for a group of people I didn’t know, and to the girl I was obsessed with?7

No.8

Obsessed is such a dirty word. Can we please choose something else?9

My toes curled with an immense amount of insecurities, but they were hidden by my sneakers. My heart dropped like the temperature in Michigan or a roller coaster running off its tracks. And then I did it. I started singing.10

The first song was sort of easy. It was about life or some ridiculous subject like that. I don’t even really remember all that much, I guess. And then the second was just about a scenario I made up. A murder scene. I think. It was all metaphorical and open to interpretation really. So it sounded like a murder scene but for all anyone knew it could have truly been about picking daisies in a swamp. I don’t know. All I remember clearly enough, was that third song that I played.11

“Alright everyone, this is my last song.” I had a total of about five girls and a guy standing in front of me, and the rest were off in corners and chit chatting it up. Wow, did I feel an immense amount of popularity and specialty.12

I quickly did a cross of the fingers behind my back, because that’s all your words ever did for me, and then I reached back for the neck of my guitar. At that moment, I wished the neck was mine. In a few more moments, I had wished the neck was yours.13

You never were good at making promises. Your pinky always shied away from commitments.14

I took a sort of pause before I spoke. I’m not sure if it was for a grand effect or if it was just because I felt some sort of monster clawing its way up my insides.15

“This one’s written for a girl. And I hope she notices.”16

I know that the song wasn’t really real, because we hadn’t done any of it together. But it was a dream I had, and that’s when I took a big step. For me, anyways. I blindly played the first note. The note to a song I had memorized like the back of my mind. To a song I thought of every time I took a breath. To a song that was etched in my heart with a permanent sharpie that was giving me a high off of the fumes. I started to play it. I guess a few people looked at me with a little bit more interest.17

You used to be a18

One chance,19

Fast chance,20

Sweet chance,21

Day dream.22

You used to be a23

Quick talk,24

Past talk,25

Sweet talk,26

Day dream.27

You used to be a28

Brisk walk,29

Last walk,30

Sweet walk,31

Day dream.32

You used to be a33

Mere dream,34

Sleep dream,35

Sweet dream,36

Day dream.37

And now you're a38

Shining star,39

We're both on the way to my car,40

You're41

Everything I've ever wanted, girl.42

We're talking about43

Dreams and plans,44

I'm thinking about45

Holding hands,46

(The one you're using,47

To twirl, that, hair.)48

You're looking so sweet and cute,49

I'm waiting to hold you soon,50

You're making every star51

Jealous, in compared,52

to you.53

I looked up. I had a crowd of people, moreso than before, actually watching and listening to me now. I sort of smiled and wondered where you were. That’s when I saw you.54

You were sitting on his lap, kissing him through a ring of smoke. Your ruby, crimson, red lips were locked with his and I saw the trail of kisses that you made down his neck. A cigarette rested in between the two of your slender fingers on one hand and the fist on your other was full of his shirt. Your hair was hanging in your face so I couldn’t see your eyes.55

You weren’t even paying one bit of attention to me.56

My stomach fell apart. The birds were eating every last bit of soul that was in there.57

I couldn’t believe that after hours of me writing and singing this song, perfecting it to its absolute top ability, still feeling like it was lousy, and then getting up on this stage to sing it to you, you were sitting in the corner, pretty much raping a guy in public, not even listening to me.58

I’m glad that my fucking love song to you was good background noise for your love song to him.59

My jaw probably dropped ten feet. I’m not really sure. I probably half stopped the song, but then I somehow managed to continue for a little while.60

You used to be a61

One thought,62

Fast thought,63

Sweet thought,64

Day dream.65

You used to be a66

Quick Glance,67

Past glance,68

Sweet glance,69

Day dream.70

You used to be a71

Brisk breath,72

Last breath,73

Sweet breath74

Day dream.75

You used to be a76

Mere dream,77

Sleep dream,78

Sweet dream,79

Day dream.80

And I thought, Damn it, you still fucking are. Slut. And even though I wanted to directly stand up at that moment, carve out every emotion I ever owned and burry it underneath every one’s plastered on, silly, stupid smiles as they listened to this song and understood nothing about it, I didn’t. Even though I wanted to walk across the stage at any sudden, burst of moment and point to you in the back corner, and scream bloody murder at the top of my lungs, I didn’t. I somehow managed to stay composed.81

I think my voice dropped an octave, and probably clashed with the harmony or something. But I didn’t care. Chicks like that kind of thing though, don’t they? Raw, emotional songs? I guess.82

And now you're a83

Shining star,84

We're both on the way to my car,85

You're86

everything I've ever wanted, girl.87

Fuck. I muttered. I don’t think anyone heard me.88

We're talking about89

Dreams and plans,90

I'm thinking about91

Holding hands,92

(The one93

you're using,94

To twirl,95

that,96

hair.)97

On him.98

You're shooting up on truths and dares,99

I'm getting high of your stare,100

You're making me, jealous,101

In compared to you.102

You're twisting up thoughts and words,103

You're too perfect to be true,104

I'm hoping that we'll105

Run away for good.106

I'm wishing on every street lamp,107

Shining the way.108

I'm skipping on every dark past,109

Breaking the day.110

I'm kissing good night,111

To the stars, that I don't need.112

You prove the iridescence that they bleed113

Is fake.114

I started tapping my feet. I don’t know. Sort of an internal rhythm since I didn’t have drums playing or anything. It was just me and my acoustic. Just like it always is. I think a few kids in the audience started waving around lighters in a slow motion as their chic looking cigarettes hung out of their lips. Like they knew anything about this. Most of them were entangled in-between each other’s arms anyways.115

We're both on the way to my car,116

You're117

everything I've ever wanted, girl.118

We're talking about119

Dreams and plans,120

I'm thinking about121

Holding hands,122

My heart is stowed away inside your palms.123

I'm wishing on every street lamp,124

Shining the way.125

I'm skipping on every dark past,126

Breaking the day.127

I'm kissing good night,128

To the stars, that I don't need.129

(And now you're a130

Shining star,131

We're both on the way to my car,132

You're133

everything I've ever wanted, girl.134

We're talking about135

Dreams and plans,136

I'm thinking about137

Holding hands,)138

I'm wishing on every street lamp,139

Shining the way.140

I'm skipping on every dark past,141

Breaking the day.142

I'm kissing good night,143

To the stars, that I don't need.144

(And now you're a145

Shining star,146

We're both on the way to my car,147

You're148

everything I've ever wanted, girl.149

We're talking about150

Dreams and plans,151

I'm thinking about152

Holding hands,)153

I’m thinking about holding hands,154

I took a grand pause. I looked up, one final time. A lock of hair fell in my face as beads of sweat trailed down my cheeks. There was a fairly large group of people now, watching, staring, listening, waiting.155

You see. When I had pictured this scene in my head, I sort of had imagined you standing down there at the front. Enthralled or something. I don’t know. Call it wishful thinking, I guess. And you’d wish that I was singing about you. Eventually, you’d find out it was you. You’d be just ecstatically in love with me, and I with you. We’d be peachy keen and just so excited. So ecstatic with life. And my entire, dream, made-up song, would become a reality. And we really would hold hands. And like, take naps under the stars or something sweet and cute like that. I’d wrap my arms around you and brush your hair and your eyelashes would blink and I couldn’t help but smile. Yeah. I guess it’s just a silly dream or something.156

Then I decided, I should probably finish the song since the morons listening below me were hanging on my last words.157

With you.158

I stopped the last chord so early as I brushed my hand angrily off it that an ugly sound sort of rang. I don’t know if it added to the effect or took away. If it was someone else I was listening to who did that, I would have cringed because I’m sure it wasn’t supposed to happen. But either way, the crowd loved it. They loved me.159

A wave of applauds and whistles sort of just rolled my way. I lifted up a hand in a motion of thanks and sort of half-thank-you-smiled. I dragged my guitar along and walked off the stage.160

That was it. I had just played my first show. I was finally the boy on stage, singing his heart out until it cracked from the pressure and ink blotted words until finally everybody loved him. That was me.161

It didn’t really seem like that though. I didn’t really seem like anything different. Besides the fact the butterflies in my stomach now decided to go insane and chew away at membranes and then eventually just die.162

Great. I had fucking butterfly corpses resting in my ribcage. How do you get those removed? I doubt there is a surgery. I mean, come on. How does that sound?163

“Hey, doctor. I need you to remove a few, blackened, Cajun-style, butterfly corpses from my insides.”164

I bet that would go over well.165

Oh, and the Hallmark cards I would receive upon waking up from surgery?166

Glad to hear your feeling chipper,167

Now that they’re removed.168

I bet you weren’t so very excited,169

To find dead butterflies inside of you.170

Yeah. That’s a keeper.171

So that was it. It was all over. I didn’t even know what I was going to do about you or anything. I mean, how does a guy get over that? Confessing his un-proclaimed love to a girl while she confesses hers to a guy she just met in front of him. A psychotically twisted Romeo and Juliet scene, if you ask me.172

And we all know how that story ends. Everyone dies. Like the fucking butterflies that were residing in my stomach. And those stupid things never even paid rent.173

God damn it.174