The memory of you

In a city far away from home, in a room I don’t live in anymore, there is a cupboard with a drawer filled with your promises that I left behind. The homeless man outside our window, always high on acid constantly trips in a loop. Ask him and he’ll tell you its an image of you making me leave and me begging you not to do this.

24 hours after

24 hours after passing out in a puddle of my own blood, I found my father kneeling on the floor of my room. He stared at the spot where they found me and blamed himself for everything. As if every awful thing that ever hurt me somehow began from his doing.

I hope you find love.

If there is a god, I pray to him that you find love. And when you do, I hope he looks like six feet of ‘worth its’, as if every goodbye, every mistake and every tear in your life suddenly felt justified. When you do find love, I hope you immediately see it, that your…

What does your journey home cost you?

Think about it, we all say people are complicated but the heart needs something as simple as someone looking forward to your arrival. And isn’t home perpetually waiting for you to come back?

When I close my eyes

You haven’t changed a bit, I think to myself, you’re still the 20-year-old kid I fell in love with whereas I’m a 65-year-old grandmother full of wrinkles. You smile and ask me if I picked up food for you on the way home. I try to explain to you that I didn’t know I was coming to see you today, death doesn’t come with a phone call

Is it an obsession? Maybe.

Can you blame me? I sit around at home all day, he always cooks for me, takes care of me, takes me to the doctor, we even shower together sometimes ;). You care this way only for the ones you love right? Call me crazy but I think he loves me the most in this whole wide world.

5 AM

I thought over and over of how I would tell you that not all people are the same, they don’t all hurt you. I’d hear you cry and tell you how vulnerable you sound in that moment and how vulnerability is what makes us all human.