the days my hands were coming apart molecule by molecule were, if nothing else, a lesson in letting go.
destiny was a man and i could see him waiting for me.
morning really is the best time. i wake realizing the softness and warmth of my own skin. i wake wishing fingers in the bend of my knee and the fold of my breast. there are times i forget, especially in the morning. im most uncontrollable then, unable to distinguish between mind and body.
im most human at 8am.
i woke up this morning
and wanted to know more.
theres nothing i know that hasnt been obliterated by everything else i know.
“so whats going on there? the two of you hooking up?”
“no.” i shake my head. “no.”
“really? the last time she was here, it seemed like you were.”
“yeah, but we werent.”
“and would you tell me if you were?”
“no. probably not.”
“no. of course you wouldnt.”
upon hearing that my cello lesson was shit and that i was so unhappy i was gonna cry about it, i received a text from crazy so-and-so telling me she’d be happy to break all of my fingers so i wouldnt have to worry about it anymore.
thats when i realized… that bitch really is crazy.