23.12.21
22:01
i'm up late watching videos of parents teaching their children how to decorate christmas trees, how to eat crab legs and fold tea towels. i take myself to the museum and stand in front of alexander brook's twentieth century ruin and hold my own hand, i explain to myself how to mix the green of a solemn sky and why a house's charred bones hold on longer than most lovers. i teach myself how to fix the flapper in the toilet and why the radiator valve doesn't shut off when it's supposed to. i step outside of my body to keep myself company and learn that tenderness is just necessity selfishness boredom when you hold it up to a mirror. i make bread for myself, stretch the dough, warm the oven. i wrap the loaves so they will keep in the cupboard. i am up late watching videos, keeping myself company, bandaging my own finger where the bread knife did what it does. been having this dream about a plate of figs, a cup of soup. the way broth slips into a spoon. the way food tastes when someone else knows you exist, and wants you to be warm, and wants you to sleep well at night. the way the sky looks when someone else has mixed the paint. i fall asleep in the car.
YOU ARE READING
words don't come that easy.
PuisiI've tried. but i've always failed to contain these thousand words in a few sentences, maybe im bad at expressing macro feelings in the few words that I'm limited to. you might think you know me enough because it's been a long time since i first wav...
