Monday, January 12, 2004
e.e. cummings would not be proud
I slept like this:sleep, half sleep, turn over, look at clock.
terrifying dream, half sleep, turn over,
look at clock. Tell me this,
how can it be 2:36 twice
in one night? But it was.
And odds are, the way today has gone
2:36 might come three times
if I ever manage to sleep at all tonight.
I worked like this:
Half smile, "good morning to you, too,"
Yes, Ms. J had a bad weekend. Yes,
your silence would be greatly appreciated.
Half smile, three quarters frown,
message to Lizzie to remember that
one, I am alive. two, there are people
that do in fact love me.
Half smile, biting sarcasm, home.
I remember this:
I have been here before. It has
been much worse than this before.
This is not the end of the world.
This is a million cliches all rolled into
one big slimey glob of cliche.
I am not the jilted girlfriend. I am
"the bitch." I'm not doing much
to live up to either.
I want this:
To remember that my bed is
mine and mine alone. A nap with
many happy floaty dreams. An
expression for the day other than
a pronounced exasperated sigh and
enough time to remember
what in the hell I'm exactly
all about.
Heather at 2:49 PM
