My Cardboard Balcony

So Much Damage by Belinda Roddie There are cracks in every window, violet stains on every floor. So much damage we must tend to, before light seeps in our scars. We'll build houses, all brand new, where the darkness conquers all. No more burns across the tables, no more fissures in the walls. No more sneaky mornings slipping into socks and cups of tea. No more sad attempts at happiness in our cold mansions three. We'll draw curtains, scaffold towers, hide our faces from the moon. So much damage to conceal from them, and not a night too soon.

"I didn't even know Larry could sing at that octave!" whispered Ed as soon as the aria was over. I laughed. "Falsetto," I replied. "You never tried singing like the Bee Gees?" "Nah. Hurt my voice too much." We waited for Larry outside the auditorium, eating the cheap cookies and drinking the sparkling cider that the fundraiser parents had left out. Once the spindly, tall vocalist stepped out, Ed, his parents, and I all clapped. He instantly went bright red, very embarrassed.