"Two Years" Before my pen hits the page I can see the words Endlessly profound English morsels Tumbling into clumsy lines in my head Organizing themselves into delicate metaphors, crafting the perfect imagery To expel my point from my unconscious Then the pen And the translation's gone wrong Not quite the imagery I saw Not quite the sentences that were carefully queuing up in their orderly lines So much like waking from a dream and trying to remember It dissolves from the fertile realm where it exists the moment I try to focus on it, Cast out into the light where it shrivels and becomes almost unrecognizable, A parched husk of a thought that if touched will evaporate. How do I describe what this failure feels like? Or this pain and regret, this guilt... this crushing motherly guilt From all the moments stolen from us by my own illness And the relentless pursuit of time. How do I describe the brutality of hindsight's boiling clarity That I've been steeping in fo...
WRITTEN OVER THE COURSE OF MONTHS: It's hard to believe I haven't been romantic with another person in over 2 years. I feel this pressure to not let myself dry up and settle into the comfort of not having to maintain a relationship. Some days I'm lonely. Most days I'm not. I read some articles about dating in this century and even those were triggering at first. Eventually I settled on match.com because it seemed the least likely to be for just hook ups. Y'all I don't think I'll ever be able to just hook up with people... and it's not a goal of mine. So, anyway, match. I made a profile, kept it hidden for weeks and didn't pay a dime. I finally unhid it last weekend and kept it visible for 3 days. I paid for 6 months. I was feeling a little flirty and positive. But then got TOO MUCH ATTENTION. It was overwhelming. I haven't been able to log in and look at all the messages or likes. I have this weird guilt with leaving people hanging, but also,...