i wish that you would yell at me and i would yell back and we would both remember that we once had a relationship worth yelling about by mira gonzalez

it is 2nd grade and the P.E. teacher asks me “are you feeling alright?”

she says “why don’t you sit with me. would you like me to call your mom?”

i don’t remember if i am crying or not

then i am holding my mom’s hand as we walk across black asphalt

my shirt is a comfortable faded green hand-me-down

the weather seems fine because the weather is always fine

***

i became a bit confused during the year following the death of my neighbor’s cat

there was this vague and permanent yearning for some abstract emptiness

which manifested in a cold indifference on the tips of my fingers

i sometimes touched the sticky dust on the backside of my refrigerator

and felt guilty in a detached sort of way, about nothing in particular

i intentionally hit my elbow on the corners of tables

and sensed something barely conscious in the wood grain furniture

with a ball point pen, i circled a scar on the base of my left thumb

***

the necessary emotions for maintaining consciousness

and an inability to experience phenomena first-hand

***

for example: it was christmas day and i wrapped my arms around you from behind

i was sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed

you were looking down at the floor or at your phone

i perceived you from the perspective of a parallel universe

and your face was infinitely huge

***

i didn’t mind the sex and the car rides

the silent apologies for an inability to create something tangible with our mouths

i slept so well those nights

Reblogged from: illbringuflowas