Woke up under a beat.
The left side of the bed stays colder than mine.
It’s been almost a full week.
Time works differently now.
My brain has had time to rest from patterns of thought.
Memories aren’t stuck repeating because maybe there will be more.
Slowly....with patience and time.
I felt heavier today.
Maybe because of loss.
I’m not sure I can explain..
When two people remove themselves from existence....
You just don’t forget the faces
I think about why..how…when…
I think about how deliberate it must be..
When you tell no one.
When you wake up and realize that upon waking, your mind hasn’t changed from what you’re about to do.
A decision you decided to sleep on last night.
I don’t know why I try to put myself there.
I’m always trying to relate..
Trying to feel like others.
I can’t empathize with someone who is gone.
I can’t help.
And people don’t know how to talk to someone that loses someone that way.
So I wake today with a beat screaming in my ears.
My hands feel how it feels
A heart just under paper thin skin.
Louder than ever
Tapping against my hand.
Like I need it.
I don’t want to need it.
When things are hard…
I don’t want to lean
I’ve been good for myself for a while and it’s scary to crave someone’s hand.
Feels like submission.
Like I could lose the things that have made me strong.
Still.
Longing remains.
And before an already stirring storm has picked up full speed,
Cold winds come again, bringing more loss…or a door to it.
As my mom’s panicked, lost, voice calls my name.
I instantly know something is off.
I take the keys to her borrowed truck.
She’s been drinking and she’s sorry to inconvenience me.
She sits, nerves on the edge of desperation.
Lighting one cigarette, after another, after another.
My stomach turns, I wish she’d quit.
She’s losing her mother, and I’m watching mine inhale her life away.
This time last year we were sitting in a hospital for her heart.
We take roads that have become my home.
She directs me, as if she’s forgotten I know these places…
They’re mine.
Her shaky breath, repeated apologies.
I feel my armor seep every time she says sorry. Like a child. Afraid.
All I can think of is soft skin, green and forest eyes.
We change subject.
I tell her about recent things in my life I wasn’t sure about sharing.
Like I wanted someone else to know what I was missing.
I felt a smile in her voice.
Which wasn’t what I expected.
I think she was glad I was being open.
She said ‘He was good for you . He saw the softer side of you, and he gets it”
I’m not sure how she knows.
We drove deep into the night.
Walked into fluorescent lights and sterility.
I’m not good in these places.
I’m not comfortable being soft.
My family is warm.
I’m not.
And there they were. Tired eyes and sad smiles.
I waited in a room full of people off the street.
I didn’t want to see, I never do.
I feel selfish. I feel small. I never cry. My hands are awkward. I’m uncomfortable. I’m cold and impenetrable, it seems.
When those sliding glass doors parted, I knew what was coming.
The hallways seemed cluttered.
Doors not numbered in ways that made sense.
Her room was dark.
She was a shell.
Her eyes like a tired baby animal.
Deep, and dark, and raw.
I was supposed to hold her hand, and I did.
I’m not good at it. I’m not affectionate. I hate that about myself. My affection has always been reserved for a different love.
She was cold. Confused. I wanted to sleep for her.
She looked at me, but, it was distant and fading.
She kept twitching her foot.
The room constantly rang and beeped.
Her mouth moved, incoherent hums breaking out.
There’s someone stuck in there.
I hate that.
I can’t stop thinking about it.
What if this body some day becomes a shell in which I am trapped?
Separated on the inside, floating, lost connection.
Tears were silently falling. But not mine.
She pushed herself up repeatedly, refusing sleep.
Maybe that hit me more than anything.
I would fear not waking.
I wondered if that was what she was doing.
It was a quiet, long, drive home.
A night without sleep.
A morning of running myself distracted.
My jacket smells like cigarettes.
My eyes sour.
Mouth dry
I don’t know if this will erode before exploding.
I don’t want to be rescued.
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