My Cardboard Balcony

Sometimes by Belinda Roddie Sometimes, I feel as if I'm on the brink of either glory or pure disaster. I flip a coin to either float or sink into the abyss of the universe that plays dice with me every goddamn day. I cry for tiny lives and scream for more time, though anxiety's the price I pay for this morass of bayou brain. Adore me if you will, but know we'll both teeter on the edge of this precarious cliff that leads to Purgatory - not Hell, nor Heaven, but where with tired hands, we'll sift through guessing games and questions unanswered, never to be answered, our vision blurred.

Suh-weet by Belinda Roddie You gotta love an impromptu friend date - complete with milkshakes!

Orange by Belinda Roddie Honestly, I thought sunsets were meant to be beautiful. Instead, the streaks across the once pristine sky made me sick to my stomach and formed crystal around my already tired eyes. Sunsets were when Father barbecued, and I drank iced tea with Mother, and I didn't have to worry one second about the next day, or the day after that, or my own fucking mortality.

After The Shower by Belinda Roddie I'm ready to smell like a fucking Girl Scout cookie.

Red by Belinda Roddie The ketchup bottle on the table, left untouched as we ate. The stardust of a scab lingering under your left nostril. The frame of your great-grandfather's painting of a ship whose captain steered it straight into Nowhere. Were the walls always this color? And the floors, too? And if it was meant to signify passion, why were we too scared to actually succumb to the heat? I wore a crimson shirt that was the hue of your lipstick, which only lightly touched my sanguine cheek. At last, we felt our pulses, and everything lit up like soft photosynthesis.

Play Pride! by Belinda Roddie Sure, it's all just corporate wanking, but...hey. Go, Giants.

To Be A Superhero by Belinda Roddie To be a superhero, I need good shoes, a jacket to brave the cold, and some spring in my step. I need the cash to buy the guy sleeping on the curb a coffee and a croissant to tide him over. I need the right words to console a crying student during a rough day after class. I need a cellphone to dial helpline numbers or check on friends as needed. I need an arm fit for serving at the soup kitchens and shoulders strong enough to load boxes at the food drive. Notice that I didn't mention a cape or a mask or spandex. And no, I don't need anyone I "rescue" to remember my name.