Negative Space

by B.R. Yeager

It’s still happening. Right now. And so on. Pushing itself forward. Because suicide goes on forever.

The sun ebbed down over the mountains and it began to feel like anything could happen.

What forces are we unable to sense that nonetheless influence our existence? Is it possible for us to become aware of these forces? And, perhaps most terribly, what do these forces intend for us?

I lived inside her house, with her family and friends. Tending boxes where she kept her secrets and reasonings. I knew the world as people do.

Just being here kills everything.

I see you. You hide behind your grinning masks but I see you. And God sees you as well.”

Tyler screamed at the audience, and they all screamed back.

We said bye and I tried to hold that wet ecstatic feeling on my skin, as if by doing so I was taking pieces of him home to keep safe.

He told me he wished his mother had miscarried.

Man’s State yearns toward Spirit, while its inverse yearns toward the Body, for all things yearn toward what they do not (or no longer) possess.

“Nah. Christ is sleeping. He won’t hear you.”

“You’re going to die becoming what you need to be. But when that happens you won’t need who you are right now.”

I wasn’t there anymore, but I could still think and remember, and I wept and wept, wanting to be all the way gone.

Like it’d become necessary to kill others to feed myself, to clothe myself, to heal, patching my wounds with their hair and skin.

And I left knowing it would ruin him.

Inflicting myself upon the world; bending that small corner to my will.

I’m glad I’m alone. With all of my dreams.

I’ll never see her again but I’ll always remember what she meant to me.