The feeling that stagnates between “detached” & “invicible.”
Get stuck there. Self-destruction– palpable. Don’t want to watch my thoughts, just want to eat this bag of m&ms, drink this handle of tequila.
Don’t know why I land there, but can’t just step out of it. Slow climb to awareness.
Easier, still see my shoeprints from last time. Two summers ago. Oh what a mess was made. Dust-stormed. Gathered on tops of bookshelves, treadmills. Ghosts my sentences.
Started feeling on the phone cuz I don’t know what to feel besides numbing frustration, conflict– need to reset, sit on my charger for a few days & not care who my hibernation hurts. But I will/will I do it anyway?
On Kristen’s couch in Boston, about to fall asleep with borrowed mascara in my eyes& almond butter under my head. I want energy, or a drink, or a sign, or something genuine to launch me back into myself. (whatever that’s supposed to mean.)
