I don’t know. I don’t know.
I keep rankling and I can’t really seem to even put it into words. I can’t. I can’t. I thought and thought about what would make me happy and that was me. I make me happy. Always. no excuses. no shortcuts. radical.
I think and think all the things that went wrong, that could go wrong and that did and could again. I cling to promises and words that evaporated when you were asked about them, meaning I guess that you didn’t really want them. were you placating them? me? I ask over and over and over again if I’m a fool. am I a fool? is this stupid? foolish? wishful? willful?
You told the truth and it broke me and you learned to tell a lie. or maybe you were finally honest? with you? with me? I don’t know. You said this to me and that to her and nothing to anyone else. Because you were trying to spin the sugar, but it’s so fragile and I can’t get purchase. It have no scaffolding, no spine. You’ll say what I need you to, what they need you to, and never what you mean. I’m afraid. What if you said what you mean? What would break then? someone.
What if everyone actually said what they mean? All these webs of spun sugar, spun glass, brittle, crack. Continue reading