Sunday, December 10, 2006

and suddenly, it was cut; it snapped. we were a string or a plank or a slim piece of limber, and instead of shaving the rough edges into nothingness, she threw us into an incinerator. she took us to the knee, and she snapped.

i snapped. and i'm still snapping. there's no sleep, not in any sane hour, anyway. there's no friends; there's nothing to blame; there's no witnesses; there's no hope, no sanity. a shambles i never thought i'd be in, a shudder i'd never thought i had to feel, a tension that i only saw in the eyes of those hollowed eyes under the tunnels and by the neon signs, looking for a place to stay, for a family, for a home. it'll never come to them, like it'll never come to me. what separates us from them?

the break was clean, with no splinters or uneven edges, no sap and no blood. the end was soon and predictable. but unbelievable. inevitable. but disappointing. devastating.

and without reason. someone needs someone. everyone needs everyone. we're built out of relationships. she'll disagree, but she doesn't know. when she looks back on her deathbed, what will she see? what will be her accomplishment? there's an unspoken truth, a philosophy we can't accept, a desire we pretend to ignore.

it's the whispered caresses of a love. the tickling giggles of a child. the tremulous ecstacies of a shudder. the epithetic luminous conversations. the people. us.

something i miss and something i've never had. but how can i miss what i've never had?