some nights you feel as if you have to be gentle with the air
if you **** at it too hard it will burst
like when you touch something
you aren’t actually touching it
and when you’re alone you’ve got someone right over your shoulder

ever notice how there are too many cars in the parking lot to be probable?
what are all of these empty machines doing just sitting here?

sometimes i switch faces
i always recognize the one i see but i don’t think it’s the one i’ve always had

i better turn the car on before something quiet gets me

i don’t miss you.
i’m busy.

she said,
the good ones never stay

well i must be terrible,
i replied,
cause i’m not going anywhere
.

sometimes i am granted the ability to see my parents as people
not just the person i know them as
but the person they are
for a brief spare moment
i am able to slip into their narrative
slide behind their eyes
and understand
finally understand their drama and their intrigue
their uniqueness and their plainness
their angels and their demons
and their late night separations
i see who they are without me
sometimes i am granted the ability to see a different version of reality
i think i am omniscient but really
what i am seeing
is me

“nobody else feels bad when they feel bad
so why should i?”

well honey that’s the difference
you’re not like them
you’re too sticky sweet and soft
no one wants to touch
and no one ever will again

is this not me?
the 2 a.m. questioning and
the brokenness of my body?
the loneliness and the doubt?
the wondering if i want this now
only because i think i will never
have it again?

is this version of me
any less true
than the version that is proud
and loud and brave?
is this not who i am?
is this not just as much me
as i was when i was
so different?

i wonder how i can swing like a pendulum
so violently from safe to scared
and then i remember
that i have never been steady
and i have never been brave enough
and i have never learned to be honest

this is me learning honesty

what do i want?
how do i ask that question
without fearing the answer?
how? how? who?

is this not me, too?

what do parking lots
and my heart
have in common?

they both feel so much bigger
at five a.m.