I get it tonight. I'm lonely. This time I understand. Sometimes all I know is that I am sad. Tonight I have a sweeter word. Lonely. Lonely. Lone. lee.
It's beautiful, isn't it? My friends are getting married. They have been doing so for several years. If I had a writing desk and a garden, I could be Dickinson. I have a brake light instead, but hey, I fixed it myself. Along with the red clock. I fixed that too.
I'm going to spend time with him tonight. He doesn't know I will actually stay at my desk while I sit on the couch with him. My friends have gotten married.
I am not a little girl tonight. If I were a little girl, I would tell you I do not like not being one like I am tonight. But tonight, tonight I am not a little girl. So I don't say anything at all.
Why do I hurt? Not cosmically. Just what is the cause, not the justification. That's all I want to know. When I was a little girl who never dreamed she'd not someday be a little girl, who did not know what a not little girl was, I hurt then too.
I wouldn't know who I was if I did not hurt. Its burned into me. He tries to understand. I want him to run so far and so fast from me. If he touches me, it will burn him. If he touches me my burns will light up again I will roll in the flames. Immolation. Darkness disguised as beauty. The dark is deep, not beautiful. It bites your ankles unless you hold your breath but then you cannot breathe.
Where did they all go? The children I played with when I grew up in pain. They are not little boys. They never were little girls. They were like trees. Ageless when I knew them, now taller. You never meet the same tree twice.