My Cardboard Balcony

Inner Peace by Belinda Roddie Somewhere deep inside my soul, I feel a chorus building beneath waves and waves of tidal paranoia. I'm not sure where it will take me, but the sea is calm enough to guide me on a brief and tender voyage.

“I like the fireworks when they go boom,” my boyfriend cooed into my ear, as we lay down together on the cold but dead lawn. Then, as he kissed me, I felt a staleness on his lips, like tortilla chips left out in the sun to dry into rough, unwelcoming husks. Above our heads, the colors were spinning.