i am trying

i am apathetic or angry today. i am trying to find the parts of myself untouched by the lidocaine i’ve bathed in. i picture the halfmoon window in my childhood bedroom, the rooms laid with beige carpet, framed by eggshell walls, decorated with flowers i painted myself. i picture the large suit on my father as he walked out the garage door and compare it to the orange jumpsuit behind glass a week later. i picture three bodies in my mothers bed in 2013, the dead mice in my ceiling, and my brother trying to hang himself with a jui jitsu belt. i am outside of myself. i am apathetic. i picture my father on a laptop, on a blackberry, on an iPhone, watching the television. i picture postcards from new york, and a bankruptcy sign on my front lawn. i picture my mother telling us to get away from the window when men knocked on our door late at night. the fence came shortly thereafter. i picture her face holding the bag from the bottom of my sock drawer. i can’t picture what she thought of me. i picture my father’s acura driving to hawaii, i wish it wouldn’t. i picture the letter i wrote to chloe in the 4th grade, i imagine an apology. i am trying to learn to forgive myself, without punishment. i am trying to learn to be strong without apathy. i am trying to be strong without being mean. i am trying to be strong without isolating myself. i am trying to be strong for real, i am trying to let myself stop performing. i am trying to be kind. i am trying to care. last night i prayed for the first time in a decade. i asked god, or the universe, or eve to tell me the point so that i don’t just burn my bridges from both ends and stand in the middle. i open these boxes enough to feel fine when i am reminded of wounds. i open boxes until they scar over. i open boxes until they leave me, and leave me be. eventually they must. everything must.


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