Tomorrow, Yesterday, Today today feels like tomorrow. there was lots of love today i even suspect that the strange phone call i avoided from my ex had to do with love i have lots of exs i picture them as big crosses. Xs piled on top of each other and shoved beside each other, XXX in red, XXXX there was lots of love today and it was very heavy, but i didn't cry like my best friend and my voice didn't tremble like my brother's. it's not that i didn't feel it, i mean--it's not that i didn't want to i don't know. maybe i just couldn't bear to i didn't want to drown so i floated above the car today, and above the cafe table and i smiled like you smile when you remember something that made you laugh the first time-- and the second and the third and the fourth, but now it's a little faded it's the same as when an agony's faded i felt like i was an old lady reading a news clipping about the day some other girl had. and i also felt kind of guilty. like i should've been here today. it was an important day. but then i remember that i WAS here, only just airborne. so it's okay (i always wait for the third okay with the lifted eyebrows, like only the eyebrows make it true) -------------------------------------- my best friend says i'm on the brink of love, and i want to believe her because i've been achey lately. death ages the living very quickly, and the not-so-alive living even faster i'm tired of hearing about states of mind and how everything's up to me, because a lot of things aren't up to me- i mean, that has to be a possibility too if i convince myself (in the name of self empowerment) that everything that happens around me and to me-- that everything i feel is completely up to me-- i'd just fall apart and crumble into the wind like dry leaves, it's waaay too much responsibility isn't it enough to be sad or be happy without thinking to myself "look, emotion, i did this, this was all me" i never knew how to say it before now, i never knew how to explain why i'd get so upset with my old friends when they peddled this weird form of delusion as if it was the secret to happiness-- they'd say something along the lines of 'just tell yourself that you're completely in control and you will be' meanwhile i'd often watch them spin wildly out of it and i was always worried about championing helplessness, but right now, watching him die and thinking of the bullshit they'd spew makes me so angry i'm not in control. somebody else, somebody up there is in control-- and i'm glad that it's not me because i've got enough on my plate as it is. but even if they didn't believe in that the surgeon is more in control this is absolutely not my doing and thank goodness for that in this situation i am not CHOOSING to feel sad, or tired, or scared because i'm too WEAK to cram some oddly fitting happy thoughts in my head sad and tired and scared are not my selections they're just what i am and it's no fun. but i'm handling it without yelling or throwing things... just so you know, toddler-esque temper tantrums, over the age of five, destroy any credibility you might have when you give people mental health advice -------------------------------------- he always, always eats my food and drinks from my glass-- so he says hello, i kiss his cheek, and he nonchalantly grabs my coffee. we're only done greeting when he's in my space. and then he says a million things and asks a million questions i try to answer them all, then i ask him a million questions he says i don't know. then he sits quietly. then he says i don't know again and smiles. and now our legs are resting against each other and our heads are leaning forward because we're interested and tuned in and very, very animated with our hands we talk about histories, public and private-- and about musicals and medicine now it's time to walk. i put my hand between his arm and torso and hold the sleeve of his flannel shirt. as we wander down the street. each step makes me tug his sleeve. i feel like i'm constantly asking him please. at a crossroad he asks me where to go-- he leans left and i tell him that his body wants to go that way at the next crossroad he pretends to read my body and tells me that i want to go right-- we find his home. now we're sitting in the dark and we're tired and more quiet we sit cross legged on the floor and facing each other his knees touch my knees and my knees touch his knees his hands are on my shoulders and my hands are on his shoulders my forehead leans on his forehead silent invisible lightning zaps in between we connect then our lips and then our limbs and then we lose our skin i can hear his air i can feel invisible crevices on his body i can taste his tired i can smell his kindness and i can see him without thinking anything at all we're animal children together wherever i see him it's here and whenever i see him it's now |