Blue Moon in Pisces August 30 2023 9:36 PM EDT
Guilt makes himself at home. Plans of spending the evening alone with a rented film and Door Dash meal of my choice are scrapped. I can't be a bad hostess. It’s tasteless. So I get the throw blankets, pull out the sofa. He kicks his feet up with no hesitation.
Nuggets of quirks that I kept on a keychain scatter in different corners of the world. I still have the bobblehead, though.
You realize that you’re the butt of the joke unknowingly. Everything is funny to me. I want to laugh because I don’t know how everyone else around me isn’t.
I have to knock softly, with just one knuckle, to enter my own body. I realize that floating away isn’t as noble as I’d once thought it was. I remind myself that I love the beach in order to love the sandbags I need to hold the balloon down too.
My cheeks grey when I think about all of the free time and will and might my friends and I used to have. And the abiding willingness to spend it together around some trees.
I wonder what [redacted] is up to. What song is on repeat. The @ name most recently typed in. The last words exchanged. I let out a scream involuntarily at the red light with both hands gripping the wheel. The woman on my right, with the white lap dog hanging out of the window, looks over. I wish for tinted windows.
An image of my parents looking frail some distant day violates my imagination. I flush it angrily down the toilet. I wonder why the most venomous things enter my mind. They’re squashed immediately, and I force myself to return to the present. And to enjoy it. Guilt knocks on the bathroom door, says to hurry up. I curse under my breath. Where can I get some fucking privacy?
I realize that [redacted] isn’t a friend to me. Overwatering a plant won’t revive it. Especially if you found the thing lifeless to begin with. Better to just become fertilizer. Something useful.
Her silvery voice rings in my ears. Along with her diseased laugh. Or I mean, infectious. I said she smelled like gardenias and she said I smelled like roses. She was the first to make me blush. And bloom.
You take a look around and wonder when the walls became so high. Who put that moat there? I wonder why I’m eager to look for a reason. I still don’t loosen the grip on the Jenga blocks in my hands.
Fantasy comes up from behind me, covering my eyes. Guess who? she coos and I say [redacted] and she says sure! I’m still smiling when I walk into the wall.
Nuggets of quirks that I kept on a keychain scatter in different corners of the world. I still have the bobblehead, though.
You realize that you’re the butt of the joke unknowingly. Everything is funny to me. I want to laugh because I don’t know how everyone else around me isn’t.
I have to knock softly, with just one knuckle, to enter my own body. I realize that floating away isn’t as noble as I’d once thought it was. I remind myself that I love the beach in order to love the sandbags I need to hold the balloon down too.
My cheeks grey when I think about all of the free time and will and might my friends and I used to have. And the abiding willingness to spend it together around some trees.
I wonder what [redacted] is up to. What song is on repeat. The @ name most recently typed in. The last words exchanged. I let out a scream involuntarily at the red light with both hands gripping the wheel. The woman on my right, with the white lap dog hanging out of the window, looks over. I wish for tinted windows.
An image of my parents looking frail some distant day violates my imagination. I flush it angrily down the toilet. I wonder why the most venomous things enter my mind. They’re squashed immediately, and I force myself to return to the present. And to enjoy it. Guilt knocks on the bathroom door, says to hurry up. I curse under my breath. Where can I get some fucking privacy?
I realize that [redacted] isn’t a friend to me. Overwatering a plant won’t revive it. Especially if you found the thing lifeless to begin with. Better to just become fertilizer. Something useful.
Her silvery voice rings in my ears. Along with her diseased laugh. Or I mean, infectious. I said she smelled like gardenias and she said I smelled like roses. She was the first to make me blush. And bloom.
You take a look around and wonder when the walls became so high. Who put that moat there? I wonder why I’m eager to look for a reason. I still don’t loosen the grip on the Jenga blocks in my hands.
Fantasy comes up from behind me, covering my eyes. Guess who? she coos and I say [redacted] and she says sure! I’m still smiling when I walk into the wall.