I look to the ceiling
at the crack in the plaster
and focus really hard
on catching a signal
I probably make a face
but I don’t know.
I’m focusing too hard
on the crack in my ceiling
to think about mirrors
I stare at the crack
until I think of words to think
then I think them
while focusing very hard
on the crack in the plaster
The Words
sound jumbled in my head
I try to say them
out loud
My Voice
frightens me
too loud
speak softly
“Hello?”
What are you expecting?
A response?
“Uhm, yeah… Sorry. Hello
I’m Nora.
You know me… I guess.
We don’t talk
but you made me
maybe
I don’t know
I like to think I know
Not knowing is no fun
specially when people know
that you don’t know.
I wish I didn’t know
that I didn’t know
but that’s the worst kind
but I wouldn’t know.
Anyway.
I’m not completely convinced
that you’re there
They said I should feel
something
I don’t think I’m supposed to feel
stupid
talking to a crack in the ceiling.
I’m sorry to bother you,
God.
I just wanted to say hi
and let you know
that I don’t know
but I want to know.
I don’t know what that means
but They told me that
You
would know
Everything.”

Photographs
on my dressing table
and your chin
does that thing
where it wobbles
like you’re about to cry.
I stop complaining
for just a moment
just to ask
what you’re looking at
and you point
at the photograph
on my dressing table.
And I want to be angry.
But I’m tired
way too tired to be mad.
I was sixteen
in that photograph
Felt more like I was
sixty
eighteen now
and feeling a lot closer
to eighty
Every year a decade
of impotent rage
of adolescent angst
but how?
I’m sixty or eighty.
In that picture I’m laughing.
I don’t know why
nothing to laugh about
at sixty
or sixteen
I want to be angry
because you think I should be
laughing
like in the picture
not angry
like I am now.
but I am angry
because that picture
misrepresents
Nora at sixteen
or Nora at sixty
I did not laugh like that
I do not laugh like that
I do not know her.
That girl in the picture
looks happy.

She looks like me.

But happy.

Wide eyed
frightened
mommy holds your hand.
Not in public, mom!
Not in public!

Wide eyed
overwhelmed
tears battle to the surface.
Not in public, tears!
Not in public!

Wide eyed
excited
home for the next four years.
Are you ready?
Am I ready?

Mom’s gonna cry
Daddy’s yelling instructions.
You can’t read the map.
How will you manage?
How will I manage?

Students walk by
skinny jeans and sneakers
iPods on blast.
They’re so cool.
They’re so intimidating.

In and out of libraries
piles of books in their arms
they’re smiling
they’re laughing
you feel like crying.
I feel like crying.

You want to be here
it’s all you’ve ever planned for
Will you ever fit in?
Don’t cry
I won’t if you don’t

Mom and dad follow you.
You want them to leave
so you can be alone.
You don’t want them to go.
You don’t really want them to go.

Your little brother
looks up at you
looks up to you
give him a hug.
You need a hug.

Walk past me
I’m in skinny jeans and sneakers
iPod on blast
I’m so intimidating
You’re so intimidating.

Mommy holds your hand
daddy’s yelling instructions
your little brother looks up at you
Will you ever fit in?
I’m so intimidating.
Don’t cry
I won’t if you don’t.

It’s too hot
and stuffy.
The blanket holds me in
holds me down
I’m suffocating.

I toss and
I turn.
The blanket is tangled
between my legs
I’m trapped.
I fumble and
I fidget.

I lean up on my elbow
to look out.
My arm is numb.
The CN tower.
Can you see it?
Can you see it?
Is it behind the fog?

It’s too hot
and stuffy.
The blanket is tangled
between my legs.
My arm is numb.
I fumble and
I fidget.

The blanket holds me in
holds me down.
I’m trapped.
I toss and
I turn

I lean up on my elbow
to look out
I’m suffocating.
The CN tower.
Behind the fog.
Behind the fog.
I’m still in Toronto, right?

It’s too hot
and stuffy
I fumble and
I fidget
I toss and
I turn.

Can’t sleep while suffocating.

Open the window. It’s freezing outside, let it in.