Thinking about heading west again. Except now it’s real. Maybe a basement apartment in the suburbs. Or just somebody’s old bedroom. My mom says I need to slow down. Rest. She knows I’ve been sick for months. But then I would have to start thinking again. On the way to her house, this morning, there were two pickup trucks parked by the train tracks. The sky hurt to look at - what else is new. Something hurts inside too – a place I can’t pinpoint. I want to drive and listen to sweet music. But should I leave when I came so close to losing you? I don’t want to be half a world away if the ground breaks. You think the desert sounds good for me – it does, it does. It’s so hard to tell when you’re happy for me. We have the same sad eyes, the same predisposition for addiction – same blood, too thick. That side of my family reads like a warning label. The other side – less clear – I spent a lot of time with family last week. Finally I piece together that maybe my mom is the black sheep. Not in the traditional sense – but a runaway, scared. I’m scared too. Not of the same things, always. I don’t mind being alone at the train station. My dad says he wanted to tell me in person – it’s hard to believe now. He still doesn’t want to talk about it. So I tell him I’m moving – but it’s the least excited I’ve been. Maybe I should take the guest bedroom and just call it quits.
My heart begins to beat again. And I'm afraid of What that means for me; My heart is still empty My mind still recovering. All these different feelings Rushing back into me, The world in front of me almost Unchanged Increasing in vibrancy.
The people have not changed And my feelings for them have not changed And yet What is the meaning of these Resurfacing feelings?