An Unfathomable Life

nueve

I used to love books
and I used to love to write
and I used to want to be something true
but now all I feel are poems

and although I looked,
there are no more novels to speak of,
even though they used to be everything,
and they used to hug up every inch of me,
once upon a time, falling out of my broken and torn seams,
but now they are gone,
leaving me more torn up than before,

but now I have my poems,
my destructive and wounding poems,
that are filled with tears and grief and uncertainty,
filled with me
and they are all that I -
I am all that I have left.

"I don't want to speak." Michael's voice was hard, strong, and loud but not a shout. I was locked outside the room he was sleeping in at Isaac's house.

"he hasn't come out all day. He gets like this sometime, just leave him alone," Luke said. Isaac was inside with Michael, silent. Brandon had disappeared.

"Can you just let me in?" I knocked on the door again, ignoring Luke.

"no."

"please?"

"no."

"can you stop being such a fucking drama queen, Michael, let Mandy in?" Brandon appeared behind Luke and I.

"shut up, Brandon," Michael's voice sounded muffled now, as if he was talking into a pillow or was holding back tears.

"Jesus, what's wrong with you today?" Brandon knocked on the door as well.

Brandon ushered me and Luke to leave for a minute, and we reluctantly agreed, walking to the other room.

We sat down next to each other and Luke glanced at me nervously.

"Mandy?"

"Yes, Luke?"

"well, uh, um, if Michael feels better later, I think we're all going out somewhere to eat, and if you want you can come with," he said, his cheeks slightly red.

"Sure," I grinned at him. "where are we going?"

"uh, just this restaurant I really like."

I was about to answer, but was interrupted when muffled sounds came the corridor, causing me and Luke to stand and walk back over. The sounds continued, until finally Isaac opened the door, "just Mandy," he said and walked out, pushing me in after and shutting the door.

I heard Luke groan and Brandon curse again, but they became silent as they moved away from the door. I sat down next to Michael's mattress, a tight space, narrowly avoiding knocking over the turntable.

Michael was lying on his stomach, in a straight position, his hands underneath his stomach, his face in the mattress.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I'm having guy issues," he attempted at a joke, but it was too hard to hear with his face in the pillow, and his voice caught at the end, a small sob escaping him.