Sunday, July 27, 2008

put the pen down

I start writing about what he did
To me
Just a few words on paper about
What happened
To me
And my heart starts pounding
And I'm there again
And it's happening again
To me
You are standing in the bedroom
Your jaw dropped
At my discovery
At the drawer pulled out of its dresser and onto the floor
and me
next to it
on the floor
holding the pile of papers in my hand
the bills
the credit cards
target, visa, master card, j crew, bank of Belmont, bank of America, bank of whateverthefuck
While you stand there
And lie
To me
And I take out the scissors
And I start cutting
Up
everything
CUTTING
Statements, credit cards, lies
Where did these all come from? How have I never looked through this drawer before?
And I cut and I scream and I cry and the tears wet the papers in a huge pile on the floor
And I breathe so deeply that I have trouble talking
And the lump in my throat hurts so much
If I could just push it down
For a moment
And swallow
How could you do this to us
To me
How could you lie
To me
Piles of lies as big as this pile of stupid accounts and credit cards and I can't breathe and anxiety fills my chest like smoke and
I need to catch my breath so I don't choke
and I try to talk and wipe the tears from their place
And I reach for my face and
sort of come to and realize
That I'm sitting alone
miles away from that old bedroom
years away from that old life
in a new place
and a new time
And the tears are dry
And the papers are gone
And the floor is clean
And my life
Is
Sane


I put down the pen for a while…