replacement place
there are every day things, mundane human things, that I think about replacing,
as they break down, because that is the way of life and capitalism, how long is the thing good for, is that all that really matters, is it worthwhile to still hold on to it,
but when it comes to memories, i understand that greed and possessive grasp so much,
how to hold on to the parts of you that are left, solely in the moments
around me on the day to day
strange flavors things to taste, new versions of things compressed into the familiar
i sold your car – where you driven us everywhere, and watched them take it away,
then
old toothbrushes, the last bathroom towels, finishing the ibprofen bottle that was there when you still were
the pizza cutter we used religiously even after it fell apart
do i keep the water-soaked tent, or the ballet barre, the breadmaker, the ancient cold brew machine
here I am sleeping under your comforter every night, it’s smooth and soothing, and Jenny is glad to have it, I can tell
I can’t watch the second season of the submarine lesbians, or another round of loki, or finish several or start a new series
without thinking of you, and the fact that while I can guess, of course I can guess,
perhaps predict,
what your response would be, but I’d never have it 100%
never
and I wouldn’t change that, but I would change you
being back if I could. it’s not fair that magic exists in stories
and then falls away, failing you, when you grow up
if i cannot use magic and find the way to bring you back, I am truly lost. and I know that, it’s only for other people I keep keeping on.
there are good things, there are, I watch some shows, I listen to some songs, i pet the cats and I think of you, and how you would be proud of these small moments,
but I am not whole. and I am tired of pretending that I have any semblance of belief in the future
how can i, with you so faraway
in the end, I think about how I will keep my animals safe – that is all that is left
and i’d love to be dramatic and quote something but I flipped through a paperback of Fahreinheit 451 the other day, and then got furiously emotional over the introduction being written by NG. he is everywhere, and I hate it. and yet, I would give anything for that to be worst news event of the last three years. how shitty is that?
and I don’t want to end on that note, dwelling on yet another brilliant writer, who turned out to be such a disappointing piece of garbage. I was going to find a screenhot or a quote or something, and this is what I end up with:
“There must be something in books, something we can’t imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there. You don’t stay for nothing.”
Fahreinheit 451, after all