half awake, i smelt myself. drawing in long breaths: the scent of my own shampoo, the aroma of my own salty skin. i was just about to fall in love with myself.
answering a telephone call, i broke my silence. the first auditory experience of my day sounded like my own voice. it was dry and it was desperate. "how's it going, brother?"
we talked for a half an hour. the usual pleasantries turned into a cross-examination of the broom and the vacuum. my god. MY GOD. these are the things that we live for, now. adulthood. isn't it great? drinking until i've got just enough courage to yell at anyone who might offend me. smoking until you smell like a tar pit.
and fighting!
sometimes we pretend not to fight. not fighting to declare who is stronger. strength is determined by whoever
won't
fight. everyone has turned into each other. i can't focus. nobody's touching me. rubbing and scratching, i'll take care of myself this way.
i wanted a protector but
i ended up playing father for a young girl. she needed it. i've convinced myself, she needed it. but now she'll be gone again. deemed too crazy to stay at home, they've got her in a hospital. fucking hospitals. hit me so it hurts. nono, hit me so i'm too numb to feel the next hit. hit me so my face breaks. hit me til i'm sent to a hospital. i'll give those doctors a piece of my mind. nobody's sick here. stop prescribing and diagnosing. let it go. let mother nature handle it. those who are weak will die.
i could never be a mother to her. i could never be a mother. i play father like i wanted mine to be.
it's so fucking backwards, isn't it?
