we skipped all our classes and talked all night and you lined up little mounds of ash on my bare arms as i listened to sad songs. we fell asleep on the ground, and we must have said a million things to each other while we were asleep because i don’t remember ever talking to you when i’m awake and conscious and feeling. i dreamed that i was watching some people i knew long long ago through a mirror, and some boy i knew long long ago was tugging at my arm not letting go not ever you understand? never. earlier you whispered things to me that i didn’t hear didn’t understand and i thought about a girl, a long long ago girl, we picked flowers and put them in empty jars and sat on car hoods, sat on the dirty edges of a sandbox with our knees touching.
we can make sense of anything if we tried hard enough. but i’m not trying anymore i’m not i’m not i’m not i’m neurotic and absurd and melodramatic and i snap at people for absolutely no reason at all and say the wrong things at the wrong times and get depressed when i start thinking about anything at all. i cross things out over and over until i’ve left little ridges on every page and sometimes i hate things just because i understand them, i don’t ever want to understand anything. living is beside the point.
