The Parts Are Organizing Against Me: A Connection, A Theory, A Proposal
Missed connection: the night is always too bright now, like a cop’s flashlight shining across a playground as I try to press myself into the shape of a jungle gym - all triangles and holes. I was almost caught. I barely saw him coming. I couldn’t even see the moon with you.
A theory: it’s not a lie if it’s said to an empty room and I stand by that.
A proposal: one day I will shrink myself out of existence and say all the lies I want.
A contrasting theory: All rooms carry memories of the people who’ve traversed them and all lies are reflections of truth. It is impossible to shrink from existence with walls carrying my memories.
My arm keeps twitching
but when I look, it stops.
There are not words to describe what I am yet.
“It took me three pages to express myself and then I wrote it again in six pages.”
There are not words to describe who I am yet.
There is a ghost of me in a hotel bathroom, opening bottled water and pouring it over the sudsy hair of the ghost of a girl I admired as she laughs uproariously. I didn’t know anyone could laugh like that. The next day she hit me and I hit her back.
Missed connection: I am trying to remember the song you sang me before you hopped on a train going the opposite way and yelled “organize!”
A theory: my body is actually extremely in sync. The parts are organizing against me.
Missed connection: does everyone have a card they find every few months to cry over?
A theory: paper holds memories too.
A proposal: what about liquid? Air? The moon? The night?