people keep asking me if i’m writing.
write this down. remember the feeling.
keeps reminding me of that guy in memento
the one who lacked the ability to hold onto
a thought from one moment to the next.
that movie moved backward in time.
i don’t feel like we’re going backward exactly
but time is an altogether different thing these days.
someone said, the problem is
that we were all going at 90 mph and then everything
yes, yes, it’s like that feeling
of being on a merry-go-round or a treadmill for too long
and then getting off and the forward motion,
the centrifugal force,
has messed with your sense of what
speed and motion and
oh my god, it’s 2:00 p.m. (like it should still be 10 in the morning)
oh my god, it’s 2:00 (like it should already be the middle of the night/mare)
sometimes, i feel guilty because i haven’t thought about it for five minutes.
sometimes, it sneaks up and bites me on the ankle.
someone rang the bells at the church 32 times at noon today.
i stood on the porch and couldn’t cry because the sky was too beautiful.
yesterday i found out that fred phelps is coming to town to spread his message
that this happened to us because we deserved it.
anger. anger so deep and rich and hot that i could spread it on my toast
or run a car from here to albequerque
i feel like i’ve opened my mouth wide
into a giant yawn, unhinged the jaw
opened it so wide i swallowed too many
and if you looked inside you would see
an ocean of grief swirling around down there
in the dark places
together, we’re slowly building the life raft.
we all know that we’ll never be the same.
so, for a while, we simply drift.