This Is Like

 

posting to empty groups. i type
the feelings into something concrete
that i can touch and get my hands
around, trying, always, to set them
free. but because there is nothing
coming back, it's not the same.

someone needs to say, "yes. i understand
that feeling. i've felt it myself. i
know the name and the texture of it."

but no one does because i can't pay the
damn phone bill yet. time is taking forever
lately. yet i know it's really racing past
at the speed of sound, the speed of light.
i know this, but i trick myself into feeling
that it's taking forever.

here i am, alone in my house. my clean, quiet,
orderly house. i wake up in the morning and get
out of bed, go into the living room and pop a
movie into the VCR and watch until it's time to
go to work. i get a shower and i get dressed and
i turn on the lamp in the kitchen, set the lamps
in the living room to low and turn on the porch
light for myself when i come home. i don't like
to come home to a dark house. it makes me feel...
i don't know, it just feels strange and empty.

sometimes, because i have no neighbors to complain,
i'll yell, "i'm home!" in a happy voice as loudly
as i can. i go into the bedroom and change into
my night clothes, go and see if there's anything
that looks appealing in the kitchen. tomorrow night
there will be because i bought a bunch of groceries
today. milk and bread and eggs. tomatoes and onions
and cheese. i'll probably make myself an omelet. i
love omelets. i can cook on my stove now. it's been
a long time since i've been able to do that. the gas
was turned off way last spring, just after the meet
i had here in may. but now i've got a job and i can
pay the bills. that's a nice feeling. i don't see
myself leaving this job.

what was i talking about? oh, yeah.

then i'll go into the living room and pop a
movie into the VCR, take my benadryl and
wait for sleep to come for me.

hey, it's a life.

right?

denise

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