Wasn’t it just night outside?
I can feel the sun. Somehow I find myself again splayed on the couch SVU still muted on the screen. Every morning starts like this, in blurred disarray poached eggs, emails, and memories of a time when I could call you on the phone to yell. So I failed at motherhood. Tell me something new. I knew you were an addict but what could I do more than berate the grown man I raised? I’ll never forget that church. You were in a box, while a thousand people gathered in to shed their tears and hug me, like hugging a cactus. After the fun’ral I thought only sleep was safe. If I stayed on the couch each morning I wouldn’t feel that I was no longer a mother. But long after the Last Day your Last Day, I mean, I decided to sit up straight and meet the new day, with one foot in front of the other. I have to keep working now and doing my hair. I have to take care of my husband and to survive, I have to take care of me, okay? I am not just living my life for you, Zach. I am also living it for me. I’m sorry. I wake up to survive.
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You took off my shirt.
Why did you do that? Because if you hadn’t we wouldn’t be in this position right now. You took off my shirt on the boat house floor. We were sitting beneath an open umbrella suspended on chairs. You took off my shirt. Talking was kissing. You groped for my stomach and I didn’t stop you, your tongue in my mouth. You took off my shirt and now I’m alone in cold fluorescent light, reading Time because you went skiing with friends. ©MK A winding road
with potholes and chips, the yellow-black snake drumming swiftly through trees, ratta snap hiss ratta snap hiss. Unsteady beats hurl us into the ditch, face to the ground spitting blood from our mouths, but always we stand always we stand. Today this road brings us places new, First loves, old fractures And oasis's few, but where does it end where does it end? And who do we go from here? Death is but a time to fine'ly rest your head, and close your eyes. Now sleep. Time knows no boundaries. It turns the world and halts life, And it heals no wounds. At the eve of night the sky swirls like there is love swimming in the sea. ©MTL 2016 Childhood
is a rope, swinging high 'bove the ground, flicking, and whipping, like a tail, in the wind. I am hanging on by the thinnest of threads, begging and pleading for the rope to come down, But it jerks and it twirls til my fingers do slip, and I fall, fall to the ground. |