i needed you now

not then

not tomorrow

probably last week

and probably in a week

or maybe tomorrow at 2 o’clock

until my walls go back up

and when you invite me over

i’ll say no.

because *******

tonight

when they drove

me home

they asked me how you were doing

and there was a three second pause

of silence before the word ***** came

spilling from my heart out my mouth

into the car

i polluted it with facts

facts about you.

they tried to empathize,

they said they understood.

they said they hoped things would get better

but i know they won’t because

they never have when it comes

to you.

i hesitated before i told them,

“she tried.” did you? did you really try?

i don’t know. i looked to you to help me learn

how to try

but i’m horrible at it, so

i don’t think i learned much.

before i knew it, i was home

i opened the car door and all of the facts

that came from my mouth

spilled out of the car,

onto the pavement and evaporated

into  the air

and i said, “thanks for the ride,

i’ll see you on thursday.”

i shut the door and was surprised because

i didn’t feel ashamed

for polluting the car

with facts of you because

they asked and i wasn’t about

to lie.

(i’ve lied enough for you in my lifetime.)

it’s hard

to stop staring at you

to not count the seconds between the gaps in which

i’m not smiling

it’s hard listening to you

not because i don’t understand

it’s

the way you speak as if i have given you my heart

and you are spewing out its truth

through a megaphone, its remnants echoing

off of our bodies as if

they were buildings built side by side

it’s hard to walk away from you

knowing i’ve already swam too far in

the ocean of

wanting and not having

treading water,

the bittersweetness of walking away from you wondering

if you can feel the piece of my heart i slipped under your skin

when we leaned in close to say goodbye.

“I like your shoes.” The barista said.

“My shoes?” I said, taken aback by the strange compliment. I was standing at the till, waiting to pay for my drink. There was no way he could see my shoes unless he had seen me waiting in line moments earlier.

“Yes, the way they come to a point. It’s exciting.”

“Oh, thank you…?” I said, punching in my pin.

“How do you feel about receipts?” He asked.

“Oh, no that’s fine. I don’t need it.” I smiled.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to have them.” He looked me straight in the eyes.

I felt puzzled, as I walked away. I wondered what he meant.

i don’t know why i’m here

it all happened so fast, i was in a daze

or perhaps a trance

my legs just kept propelling me in this direction despite

my common sense

though i’m not sure if i even have that

left

i’m sorry i stained your pillow case with mascara

i’m sorry i noticed the bottle of zopiclone sitting on your bedside

i’m sorry i wrecked your perfectly made bed

i’m sorry i’m so needy and stubborn

my legs led me here, i had no choice

i didn’t want this, i really didn’t

it’s just that sometimes i can feel my heart beating

in your chest, which would explain this unrelenting ache because

my body just can’t seem to part with it.

i’m sorry i came here expecting something from you

but i will re-make your  bed,

remove the mascara from your pillow,

and set the alarm when i leave,

leaving no trace of my self

behind, aside

from the invisible fingerprints on your piano keys.

Health walks into the room and spots me in a second. He orders a scotch on the rocks and motions me over toward the bar. I pretend not to see him. I am having a deep conversation with Death, and it must not be disturbed. Death is telling me about her experience with Life, and how they like to share a good **** every once in a while. “You should call him up, he loves a cruel tease.” She says, holding her red wine with a wink. I think about her suggestion and ask for Life’s number. She looks around in her purse, pulls out a small crumpled piece of paper, hands it to me and says, “If he doesn’t pick up the first time, don’t leave a message. Wait for him to call you.” I nod,  fold it, and put it in my pocket.
I walk over to the bar where Health is sitting and order a tall Diet Coke with ice, indifferent to his presence.
“So, haven’t seen you around here much lately.” He says nonchalantly.
“I’ve been busy. Among other things.” I reply cooly.
“What kind of things?”
“I dunno. I’ve just been preoccupied.”
“With what?” He persists.
“I dunno… Sadness. Disappointment. Uncertainty.” I say.
“Ahh… Those are tough preoccupations. I met with Sadness the other day, she couldn’t stop crying when we were having lunch. She diluted her soup! And Disappointment, well, I haven’t seen him in ages. He sends me a Christmas card once every couple years or so. As for Uncertainty, well she lives in my basement. She makes me cookies instead of paying rent. She can never hold down a job for more than a few hours really. But she sings beautifully in the shower!” He smiles.
“Have you ****** Life?” I ask.
Health bursts out in bouts of uncontrolled electric laughter.
“Have we ******?! Honey, we have four children! Hope, Recovery, Freedom and Passion.”
“But she’s cheated on you with Death.” I say.
“How do you know?” He asks.
“Death told me.”
“You know better than to believe what Death tells you, don’t you?”
I look down at my fingernails. Jagged, short blue stubs.
“I dunno…”
“Have you met my children?” He asks.
“Briefly, at a party once.” I reply.
Health closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath. He whispers something I don’t quite understand, something in a different language. The bar is now packed with people, and the music is blaring. The song “Language is a Virus” by Laurie Anderson is playing in the background. The atmosphere is chaotic yet Health maintains a peaceful composure.
Health slowly opens his eyes and says to me,
“It was lovely chatting with you. I hope to see you around somewhere again soon.”
He puts on his leather jacket and helmet, and walks out of the bar.
I remain seated, watching the chaos, with my hand in my pocket, feeling the folded piece of paper that Death had given to me mere moments ago. I just sat there, with Laurie’s lyrics looming about my head:
“Paradise is exactly like where you are right now. Only much, much better.”

I’m sorry I shut you out and blamed you for my own undoing,

You see I have this cloud that hangs above my head and I had begun

To call it home.

My thoughts and feelings got lost somewhere in the condensation phase,

And I trapped them there, only allowing occasional acknowledgment of the pain

I was in, doing as much as I could so as not to show if or how I had been affected by it,

For I am my own prisoner of sorts.

I let you in my cell to feed me water and gruel, but when you asked to spend the night

I immediately pushed you out and handcuffed myself to

The illusion of accomplishment, for lo and behold, I was there supposedly

Protecting myself, abandoning you before you could abandon me.

Over time, my pride turned to boredom which turned to anger which turned

To loneliness, and I had to place the blame upon someone’s shoulders.

There were no mirrors in my cell, so I chose to blame you

For I had forgotten that I even existed.

Your kindness cut into the unripe parts of me, the parts that were not ready

To be handled so gently, where breathing is slow,

Where each time you blink is like having a windshield wiper wash away the rain

From a car so clarity can enter your veins and visceral rearview mirrors.

I unraveled while you were away, I cried over my million losses while I counted

Your continual successes, I was envious of you,

Gradually falling silent to the truth of everything that had once surrounded me.

I was afraid you no longer loved me, for I no longer wished to be loved

Nor did I feel deserving of it.

That wish was strong and I fell down a long and narrow well

Where you were not waiting for me when I finally reached the bottom.

I stayed there awhile, beneath my cloud, locked in my cell,

With the murky water and unforgiving gruel.

You called down to me from the top, your voice

Your voice

Your voice

Oh but how could I possibly forget?

That voice.

It never left,

It never lied.

I can’t promise you I won’t fall down here again,

For my heart is stubborn and I still haven’t learned

The art of removing that which has been engraved

On this selfish mind.

But for now,

I wish to stay.