running down a shallow hill
the pavement wide enough so cars wouldn’t knock me over running
to that care centre for old people i knew when i was a child because
my mother was housed there for two weeks after giving birth to my sister
and i always noted the black framed front even though
i had no idea about anything else. what birth was what she was doing
in a vacuum somewhere doing sacred things
i was running down the shallow hill to instead a bakery and the line was long
i had done something wrong but it seemed so old, so past
i was carrying the guilt of knowing even as i had grown past where it halted me
in line for scones, whatever there is left
two scones from the baking tray cupboard but
the one i wanted was gone
instead i pretended like nothing had happened and shrouded my disappointed in my usual habit
and picked up two from the remaining ones. one of them
broke in half - not my fault
i immediately cut it in half and started slathering butter into it, as you do
even though it was broken in half the other way around
and i ate, i wanted to eat
the shop keeper cashier pointed to the screen behind the counter
which pulled me up and she said, look it
that’s you that’s your doing
and the thing that felt wrong came back
on the screen was evidence that i had tried to text Desmond for a text message fee
or donate some small money
and it said that he was dead
if i proceed with trying to do this, denise - or someone else with such a name - will know
and that was what i hated the embarrassment
that all this time i was trying to contact a dead person
who died and i felt like that was my failing
not that he was gone or i killed him
but that i was incompetent enough to ever think i did not care for him
that none of this would affect me at all when i am all but reaching out to ghosts
and the living world would know and this is embarrassing
running down shallow hills
spirals that lead to modern set roman ruins
chipped concrete and 70’s gates
with mr prasad explaining to me what dramatics were
i am on the ground i already know i just feel terror, watching
romaincrisis
kianamaiart
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
titsay
