Ghosts. Whoooooooooooo
I barely noticed Bin Laden was dead until I was reading the last piece entitled, Where Victory Lies, in the Time magazine with an X on his face. The writer was waxing on how massive hatred failed to change us. Along the lines of: we’re sill “rambunctious,” but warily so, and I felt so alone.
I have worried every day about terrorism since September 11, 2001, on every plane, train, and bus. My extended family has an emergency plan in light of doomsday.
Simply reading an entire issue devoted to the two towers and Al-Qaida gave me terror. In fact, I’ve hovered somewhere between the opposition and homeland security, trusting little beyond trees in July and August.
There are places where Americans are terrorists. / When pristine things happen, I feel wary.
The Prince of Wales married a common girl into a princess—his straight lace doll. (they do seem genuinely happy and how lovely) Before the comparisons even surfaced, I saw Cinderella and the curtain always falling opportune. The Big Day/ The Island Honeymoon/ The End.
Once, I wanted to marry the prince before his balding. Wanted to write him a letter I was sorry he had to be a prince and to lose his mother. Sorry he had to invite government leaders of killing countries to his monarchist vows. How frightening like someone’s perfection.
I enjoy my new job. So much I’ve learned of how people bleed, breast lumps, and bacterial infections. Though, some moments there is this absence. There is this missing abortion. Missing the life and death.
Pining always.
There are people and things that will break hearts so puzzlingly it’s as if they have taken us away from ourselves like a culposcopy and surely we would take our heart pieces back if we knew their culture would make us rich with nutrients.
Love doesn’t shake me. I’ve grown immune.
Haunted—I do what I want.
The Prince of Wales married a common girl into a princess—his straight lace doll. (they do seem genuinely happy and how lovely) Before the comparisons even surfaced, I saw Cinderella and the curtain always falling opportune. The Big Day/ The Island Honeymoon/ The End.
Once, I wanted to marry the prince before his balding. Wanted to write him a letter I was sorry he had to be a prince and to lose his mother. Sorry he had to invite government leaders of killing countries to his monarchist vows. How frightening like someone’s perfection.
I enjoy my new job. So much I’ve learned of how people bleed, breast lumps, and bacterial infections. Though, some moments there is this absence. There is this missing abortion. Missing the life and death.
Pining always.
There are people and things that will break hearts so puzzlingly it’s as if they have taken us away from ourselves like a culposcopy and surely we would take our heart pieces back if we knew their culture would make us rich with nutrients.
Love doesn’t shake me. I’ve grown immune.
Haunted—I do what I want.
your writing reveals a caring heart and a spirit that soars in the face of fear!
ReplyDeletelove ya,
dad