For a Moment

On the plane home during my 8th grade class’s trip to Rome, I sit next to Vasily. I am 14. I have a large cup of Mountain Dew in my lap, its contents looking like they could glow in the dark. I drink a lot of it and then put it between my legs, fall

Despair

I’m listening to Enya’s Watermark and trying to think myself out of a mental trap I often get into. I especially get stuck believing that things won’t change. Recent events–my father being dropped in my lap (sort of) and then getting sick–have made everything else harder to bear. Or my emotions harder to avoid. Almost

Dad

Today, I found out through my cousin that my dad is being put in an institution by the VA. Apparently he has dementia. We have been estranged for several years. When I got that news, I cried for the first time I can remember about anything having to do with my dad. Dad, you left

Music Part 2

I do know why the music from those dark times stands out for me and makes me want to hold onto the memories. I could say life transforms even the worst things into beautiful things, but I don’t think that’s true. What I do think is that to be alive means to have a soul,

Music Part 1

I am not as philosophically or literarily advanced as Proust. I believe smells DO take you back, but it happens to me so seldom that I don’t think about it that much. Songs, on the other hand, paint immersive technicolor exhibits in my head regarding the past I often never want to leave. I have

Worth It

“That’s Not My Name.” The cadence of that song, and later, the words, the significance of a girl yelling that THAT ISN’T HER NAME, rings in my ears as I pretend to dance on the asphalt with my half-drunk watery beer in a plastic cup. I am wearing a khaki skirt I got at the

Details

There are children playing (and laughing and squealing) outside. They sound like they are about six or younger. It’s still colder than it is warm out, especially now as the sun goes down, but I did have to take my sweater off today. My cat is sitting on my unmade bed, her tail flicking a

Woman

Some days I am like a beautiful woman Awake in the morning My smile an embrace Everyone hates a beautiful woman Sometimes she is a lake people die in She walks in and People talk and Some begin to hate and Hunger eats at the seams of underpants Everyone eats nervously You call yourself a

Dreams

There is nothing, maybe just air and sky, if that. It is, however, freezing cold. Then a light, like a sundog, spreads vertically, infinitely. I understand it to be an infinite, vertical rainbow. Everything around it is gray. It may or may not contain all of the colors of the rainbow. It might contain just

What I Wish Hadn’t Happened

He walked along the row of seats, putting his hands on people’s shoulders and whispering in people’s ears. He’s just doing that so he can whisper in mine. It made me feel better to think this. I was the end of the row. He stopped, and put his hands on either side of my neck