Because I Don't Know What He Does With His Half

Bala

Balan

Balance.

You get out of the theater early.

A spotlight burned out,

and it won't be repaired for at least a week.

You get home two hours before you normally do.

You knock on the door,

get buzzed in by the receptionist,

take the elevator up to your apartment.

It takes you a little while

to find the proper key.

You can hear people talking from inside.

You wonder if there's a party.

Could it be yours?

No, your birthday was two months ago.

Could it be his?

No, his birthday isn't for another two months.

You shove the key into the door

and drag yourself inside.

There he is, sitting on the couch,

kissing some girl you've never seen before.

It takes you mere seconds to understand the scene.

You drop your bags and run,

tears running down your face

nearly as fast

as you run from the wreckage of your heart.

You run and run and run and run

until you can't run anymore.

You run so long and so hard and so fast

that you get to the end of the Earth.

You stand there at the edge,

staring over the brink,

waiting at the place

where the sidewalk ends.

You trip,

you fall,

you tumble.

You wake up.

You look around.

Just a bad dream.

Just a bad nightmare.

Just a bad memory.

Being a Tale of Danger and Fear Involving the Evasion of a Very Slender Man

Herpin'

anna derpin'.

Balance.

You're on a camping trip.

You're all sitting around a campfire,

at midnight,

roasting s'mores

and telling ghost stories.

Then you step up,

and you volunteer to tell the tale

of Cap'n Gorehook,

the ghost pirate.

And it goes a little something like -

but then a terrible roar comes from the forest.

A sound like a cannon shot rips apart your ears.

Arrrrrr!

screams a gravelly voice.

Laaaaaand hoooooo!

screams a...

squeakier voice.

And then a squawking parrot

flies in and pecks at the others!

A big man with a matted beard and strange outfit

moving like a whisper,

so silent among the pine needles,

walks into your circle

and starts digging up the fire,

looking for something underground.

Eventually he finds a huge chest,

that he opens and inside

are coins.

The whole time,

your campfire mates are just watching,

giggling,

whispering,

but then the pirate screams at them,

and they all run -

but not you.

You walk up to the pirate

and high-five him.

You take one of the coins,

unwrap it

and pop it into your mouth -

delicious chocolate.

And you giggle

and he chuckles,

and all the others

are hiding under the beds

in the RV.

Schrödinger

 nononononono NO!

I'm sinking like a stone in the sea

I'm burning like a bridge for your body

Altum videtur

Fly away, little birdie,

fly far into the sky!

Balance.

They're everywhere.

Dead rats.

Mauled,

as if by a dog.
 

But I know who did this.

It's him.

Cheshire.

These -

these cuts

they can only be from his sword.

The sword in his cane.

The one he used to

to

well, you know.

Every day,

another dead rat,

eviscerated,

disemboweled,

at my doorstep.

I thought it was Sierra or Mab at first -

they are cats, after all.

But the consistency and the nature of their injuries...

He has no remorse.

Cheshire was sweet when I knew him,

when he was still Lewis Jacobs Lyman.

When he was still my Jack.

Jack wouldn't do this.

Jack would try to nurse them back to health,

no matter how bad they looked.

Jack would have given them a proper funeral,

and I would have been right by his side.

I'm scared, yes.

But I'm also strong.

I don't have to let fear consume me.

Into the gala, now's the time

We're ready and we look divine

It's simple. You need something delivered, but are being stalked by... You-Know-Who. We are good at Running and like money. Elementary, my dear Watson~!

Teehee!

Teeho!

Balance.

 You're at the post office,

on Valentine's Day.

There's a young man

sitting on a bench,

just outside.

You sit next to him.

Beautiful day, huh?

you say.

No response.

You have a Valentine?

you ask.

Did,

he says.

He coughs. A tear runs down his cheek.

Left a week ago.

You smile.

You take his hand and smile for all you're worth.

You miss her, huh?

 you say.

No. Him.

You're taken aback,

but only for a moment.

You smile all the more.

You pat him on the back

and give him a short,

tight hug.

You wait,

patiently.

Eventually he smiles.

You've cheered him up.

Thank you,

he says.

You hand him the box of chocolates

that you had just gotten in the mail.

You don't need to be a mind-reader to see

he needs it more than you.

Schrödinger

i can't remember

And if I were a tree growing tall and green

All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves