Home in My Mind

The deeper we go, the farther we are. Until someone says, “Hi there.” Thank you, good night. All of the pleasantries I once thought superfluous, are saving my life in increments, the way a basket of free tortilla chips and salsa calms jangled nerves before you order that margarita and an enchilada plate.

I’m exhausted. But snoring with the C-PAP on. An invisible force prevents me from sinking in. And I won’t push an extra helping of fried chicken away. I can’t.

Just look.

They tell you one thing. Then tell you another, forcing us to take sides. Now. Hurry up.

I’m living with Narcissists, ruling the day.

The bad guys always win. Conniving, backstabbing, gaslighting, the lies we tell to keep us whole when we are fragments of society, the worst among us lining up to throw stones, laughing like mad men howling at the moon.

One soft voice. Tell me your day. Did you garden? How did the petals on your red, red roses feel, as you gently cupped their faces, making promises?

The coffee is hot and sweet and soothing.

My time here dwindling, my mind…elsewhere.

I make plans to meet for cocktails — do they have outdoor seating? -

but everyone has fallen ill, under the guise of an innocent infection

Somewhere, she is laughing at me. The Queen of the Narcissists, with her fake platinum hair and her great, big cock in someone’s mouth, forcing them to EAT HERE, we are calorie-free.

In the twilight hour, they corner me, eyes glinting sharp as cutlery, not an ounce of mercy among them. Soon, I’ll be just one more number in their Census Bureau. I turn, gather the fodder of sacred, random kindness, happy, quiet moments, that time I felt loved for no reason…and I jump.

They stare at the darkening sky, aghast, as I fly far far away, toward the Crayola magnet of home.

for chick

Originally published at https://carolbankswebercoggie.wordpress.com on September 4, 2020.