Dark Center of the Universe

i shut my eyes and you're always there. perfect hair perfect lips perfect voice cooing to me from outside of the 2 a.m. night window. i cut my wrist on the windowpane, a scar left from too little medication and i bleed strawberries, lean out and kiss you the most delicious transference of nature (how sweet the sound-

i can feel it dripping down my thighs, the baby screaming across the street, the man working eternally on the garden in our front yard. i hand him tonic water and pomegranate juice and it sticks to his teeth while i wait for time to catch up with my bones

our eyes locked for a moment

my days blend together until they are only separated by the amount of medication left in the pill bottle at the end of the week or how many smiles ive collected in my pockets at the end of the day

they said my name so many times it wore thin and scraping against the cement run over and shit on by beautiful huskies.

i heard the rain before i saw it, decidedly too gorgeous for this day. not today. not this day, it is soo dark today. my nose froze against the door before i would open it. my mother screamed when she saw the bath water, her face paling in comparison.

-que paso guerita?

-nada...

-como estas?

-bien, gracias, y tu?

-ohhhh, that's mechanical. you don't know sad in spanish or you would have told me you were sadder than the day is grey. why?

my teeth shatter in the garden, bees fluttering, coming to see what the dream was.