There’s a throbbing in my chest that doesn’t go away when I crawl and sit upright. I’ve been seeing things again, like the woman who was stood next to me a second ago. I know she was just the brown boxes and blue suitcases placed the wrong way in this light,
but for fuck’s sake she was so real-
It’s not just her, it’s in the day throughout – when I flinch and swerve aside because there definitely was some rodent moving there
but it was just rubbleIt’s a good thing I’m normally by myself when I see them, but there’s some desolation in that.
The curtains billow, clapping against the metal beams of the window. For a few moments I stand before it and do nothing because it is the pigeons flapping furiously. I touch it and curse, because it was stupid. It was just the goddamn wind and I knew it. I shouldn’t have let a small panic uncurl.
There’s something in me that has never been turned ‘on’. I’m always in my own world, and sat in the taxi last week I was shamed for it, now that I am so close to adulthood.
I have always dismissed my mother when she says my father takes pleasure in shaming her, but this once there is some truth in her mania.
I can’t believe either of my parents or myself and I can’t trust anyone anything anyplace my mindfuckfuckfuck
I look out the narrow gap in the window and let the wind hit my face.
Maybe for these three minutes I do not have to be so scared.
The wind grows stronger and the loneliness abates a little.
The lights are out and the curtains are drawn in all the houses in the block. I feel insolent in braking their norm, but they can’t see me here.
I have to push against the pane to keep it open now, it wont be long before the rain comes.
Something hits my eye and I let go-
The window slams shut.
Rubbing my eye, I feel a pointlessness in having the door open.
I leave and the curtain falls back, unmoving and still as the rain roars.