a short list of things that haunt me

  1. have you ever seen a diagram, of the brain during dissociation? how it all just flickers out to nothing, and you lie there, breathing in a house with no one home. how do you start to heal, when you’re barely there at all?
  2. and have you ever thought about the past? how it creaks and groans with the wind? have you traced the scars like photo albums, embossed into your skin, and maybe they’re all you have left, to remember the monster you’ve been.
  3. have you sat still, and imagined how you’ll fade into obsolescence like an old can of soda, collecting dust in the pantry? have you thought about the stars, and how they turn.
  4. have you thought about black holes? how they consume everything in their path without a minute of remorse.
  5. and have you curled into yourself like a daisy at night? and stared at the window, in a city you’ll never quite reach, and watched the cars like little wind-up toys, spinning circles around the highway.
  6. have you seen a dead cricket, on the side of the road, and wondered if there’s anything small enough to escape destruction? i don’t think there is. and that scares me most of all.
  7. last week, we learned about monsters in school. about people who hurt other people, who dug their claws into the dirt and left ugly, bleeding scars on the world. but at the start, they all seemed so normal. and you have to wonder, how many people could do what they did, under the right circumstances.
  8. today, i held a wounded rabbit in my hands, and let it rest in a box on the table. and i waited by the laundry machine, kept my voice down and tiptoed past. and a few hours later, i watched it go. i hope it’s all right.
  9. i hope the world is a fever dream, i hope it drifts and floats in lavender, and cinnamon, and bitter lime-skin, crawling down my throat. i hope my heart beats in my chest like an oath.
  10. i hope i survive to be haunted forever, in every blink of my eyes, each creak of toothpick-bones. i hope it echoes through me like a siren song, i hope the concrete swallows me whole. i hope i remember, and bleed. i hope i grow.

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