Drenched hair clothed cloths rags in the shower. Tattered. I feel tattered. Tattered is a funny word. Drops of eternal ethereality on my lashes. Eye lashes to clarify. Not lashes as in whip wounds.
As Iraq burns, I sit on my styrafoam bed that isn't mine, it's babysat.
Irrelevance kisses irrelevance. My bed linens are in the dryer, along with my dreams. Thank you for freewrites, and outlets, and unrhythmic beats. Heart beats. I hate actual beets. And cranberries.
My heater is hissing steam. Renee likes cranberrie juice. We know each so well we could scream.
WHAT NOW? The smooth deltoids soften and die in the bag of skin called my arm. Peirced. I can taste touch hear see and smell that word. I love that word. I love words as they fill my esophagus, as they are my sternum. My sternum fills my esophagus.
He said lets run away together to the air force, I said then we could fly! and he said or at least make a steady income - we're so different, but we both have neurotic habits of self mutilation.....but only in the summer can anyone tell. I rake my fingernails down my arms.
Don't look at this for insight. You have no idea how much you mean to me. how much I'm thinking of selling out. how much I would like to throw my shoes at as many corrupt politicians as possible.
My stomach is flat but my breasts are small -ish. You win some you lose some.
I'm sick of climbing uphill and fighting clawing for everything. Grow cajones please don't make me fight for you, just say 'hey, you're awesome' that's all I need.
I'm going to the inaugaration........
This free write is over......I'm so tired.
2 comments:
I so dig this, Anna. Holy moly. Hey, you're awesome.
Thank God for you, my dear Carrier.
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