Extrasupervery

And so I dreamt of things that make most men scream and wake in cold sweats. And he sits and she sits and they sit and I stand and try not to fall over as all the blood rushes to my brain and I  stumble through the world with no clue how to breathe or think or love with kind eyes, and even more loving glances. They all smile and make me force smiles and speak with wide open lips, pouring everything out, throwing word after word through my esophagus and letting all of you take it as you will, and put it in your own context. Imagining balance of emotions, imagining reassurances of feelings of joy. Today is the end of morning adventures with butts of menthol and turkish camel cigarettes hanging between middle and index fingers painted in silver and bright neon colors that raise the butts to saliva and secret coated lips, and sisterly love, compared to sisters that have none. 

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There's something about the moon at four in the morning when I wake unintentionally  to watch the sunrise and the next-door neighbors leave and the cats fornicate and fight in the driveway and on roof-tops, while my own cats leap at the hanging bird-cages, and the bird screams at the tops of his lungs, (and he says to me in my dream, 'god, you're so beautiful, you're not a girl, you're my girl,' and I grin bigger than the sun at the highest point in the day, or when I watch babies kick at mothers stomachs, and see imprints of feet on shirts.) just to scream 'nevermore' at me through the gaps in the bars. I've seen almost every sun setting for months now, and I still have no sense of time. Time pushes me forward, time pushes me off the cliff and then revives me by breathing life into my chest and re-starting the heart that's stuttered to a stop for a short time while I found myself huddled in dreams that make me gag. 

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I try to breathe normally and speak in sentences I've formed ahead of time so I don't stumble over words or the trail of words that I left behind that don't make sense and have everyone questioning from one glance of my puffy eyes if I'm okay. I'm okay, I've been down this road before, I know how to handle it. You cut losses and move forward with higher expectations, (and Deb's singing to me, 'i try to be honest, try to be kind, and honestly leave when I know that it's time,' so i took it to heart and left, but not without mourning for a day and a half with nothing more than coffee and pursed lips and monsters coming to get me at two in the morning while i beg for sleep at the foot of my bed, with cat eyes growling to me an Iron and Wine song that plays every night while i sleep.) and forgive and love and smile and be okay. 

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