To Unravel

Unravel–the life is completely unravelled. It’s nothing good. It is all twisted up, broken with no joy to it. The life has gone missing. The best parts are gone, way off in the not so distant past. The life is the one that someone wants to put back together; it is the life that could use being labeled “normal” again. After so much pain there is no normal. Normal is a fantasy, a fairy tale.

Dead

He killed me. I am dead. We were arguing ins the kitchen. He accused me of being unfaithful, he said I had lied to him. He called me a dumb ass and other nice names. I was tired and turned to walk away. I wanted my bedroom. There I could find solace. He opened the drawer in the kitchen. I didn’t see the knife; I just felt it. I turned to look at him. Why? Why was he doing this? My eyes were big. I didn’t understand. My hands grabbed his jeans. He turned his face to the wall. I was gone.

Planes

Planes

Long ago—it was long ago. All those days of rushing from plane to plane, from city to city happened years and years ago. There was the need to do something, to be somewhere. There was the need to be somebody, somebody important, a person who got things done. Fatigue did not exist then. The word was nowhere near the vocabulary. The eagerness to be with the ones I loved, the ones I truly loved—all that is gone now. It is done.

 

 

 

 

Sleep

She sat on the white crates–one on top of another, then another and a third crate. She closed her eyes. The wind bothered her, but at least the rain had stopped. She hated getting wet. Life on the sidewalk was more real than anything she had ever experienced. It was hard concrete all the way through. For 10 minutes her mid took her somewhere safe and warm, to a place without pain and unkindness. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She shook herself and looked to see a hand holding a dollar bill. ” Here. Could you use this?” She half smiled. “Yes. Thank you very much. I need a cup of coffee.”