Tourniquets & Dreaming

in a world where all the best dreams come true– beautiful songs rolling through my mind like poetry; boys who kiss goodnight even if it’s not in their nature; snow cluttered roads without streetlamps & a thousand aching
broken hearts; terms don’t matter.
the snow won’t stopping falling here. i keep going to work & paying the bills & making phone calls to people who decide to answer & this is “regular.” life is on track, i tell myself, life is good. pink floyd says otherwise, but then again, when didn’t

surgery is wednesday; it’s nothing i’m looking forward to. today i went in for blood work– walked into that hospital that wreaked of death & birth & white sterile rooms without feeling.
“brixton bell. i’m here for bloodwork.”
they sign me in; the waiting room is cold. becca, irina & kyle joined me for moral support. they call my name & a cute boy whose name tag reads ‘joel’ takes my blood into a syringe & dismisses me.
“this won’t take long, will it?” i ask him, looking away because i can’t bare to watch this sort of thing.
“no, it’s quick,” he reassures, pulling the tourniquet tighter.
“i’m a wimp,” i hear myself confess, & out of the corner of my eye watch as his eyes meet with the lip ring poking from my face. for the first time, i look in his direction.
“despite the piercings.”

arm aches all day; that’s allright. i drink the pain away with bourbon as expected & drive the highways with the usual destination. this is calculated. this is just fine.
to say the least, i am fine. (i hate to think of you.) i haven’t written for awhile because for some reason it’s making my heart heavy lately. instead i listen to music, drown myself in deep dark kisses & leave the world spinning spinning as i pass out in bed. movies have been a big thing lately. i like to escape to someone else’s life. tonight i’ll fall into bed, shut the white world outside far away, & dream of better things to come.
because that’s all you can do sometimes.

Monday January 26th 2004