Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Fat and out of breath

I am fat and out of breath jogging for the train. It is cold outside. I am scanning the concrete looking for ground scores as I head to the station. One day I found two shiny quarters. Another day I found a hair tie. I am living in the present as my backpack slings back and forth in my haste. I am intrinsically tied to the past. I eat like I am still in jail. Done in three minutes. I shower like I am on the tiers- leave the door open so I can see who is coming. I cover my eyes with a sweatshirt sleeve like I have for the past twenty years. I sleep so lightly, wondering  who is sneaking up on me. 

I am fat and out of breath- running for my life. Addiction is always one step behind me. I got a Benadryl hangover that feels like I have not rested since the day you tied my arm off. I cannot relax. I cannot waiver. I am a lonely hungry animal surviving on scraps of what others consider affection. My affliction- the ever present desire to destroy ever thing I touch and call it normal. I dreamed of you again. The two lovers that can never touch in Dante's Inferno. The desire is there but you withdrew from me long ago. 

I am typing on my phone. I am alone. I made it through once again. The ride to normalcy commences .