there'll always be ghosts

We search for home
in the eyes of strangers

transient completion

in the arms
of those who fade
too soon.

as of late...

I feel like-
I’m being strained through a colander.
Like I’m being forced to spread and separate, until I’m only reconstituted Monica.
With Work, with Home, with Study and Family issues, I’m being stretched.
I’m walking around; static mess, this field of scratchy unintelligible sound drowning out my clarity, slaving me to disorganization, inefficiency, procrastination.
My eyeballs are lubricated with seeded strawberry juice, the insides of my eyelids lined with a fine grade of sandpaper.
I was heavy inside. The kind of heavy that has you choked up. The kind of heavy that makes you a gut bag of lachrymal fluid filled up till the skin stretches and shimmies. One muscle twitch and you’re bleeding salt all over yourself.
And I sat there looking at my phone, scrolling through my phonebook and not knowing who to call.
So many friends. So many big-hearted, kind, beautiful people. So many I love, so many I would die for. Why, when I fill up with heavy, am I so uncomfortable and reluctant to ask them for their ears?
And when I do choose to share, I’m left feeling like someone sneaked up behind me and pulled down my pants.
--
ok. all done now.