I am standing at a crosswalk in downtown Kansas City, the empty roads surrounding me silent and still. I too am still- suddenly realizing so.
Forcing my feet forward, I cross the street to the small building there. Some familiar place I will surely forget someday, years from now.
‘You worry too much,’ they say. I shrug.
It is probably Tuesday. Mind is so tired. But honestly, it’s so much less than that: it is boredom.
Nothing can soothe me. I’ve done well with the lack of chaos, all things considered. Of course i have many fuck ups.
Of course I’m very weak in the department of alcohol.
Some sense of belonging, maybe: the waitress Letty knows my drink as I open my mouth to speak; it is like anything which accompanies this addiction- comforting, embarrassing, and of course worst of all, a reflection of my true self.
* * *
You, in my darkest moments are still there. Silently, quietly- non-intruding- the small parts of my life that you have touched tangibly.
Meanwhile, I should be forgetting.
* * *
My body is part exploding right now, at least all the energy in me is, and it’s something of a nice change from the chaos of my mind. I smile. I’m silent.
I am still always good at being silent.