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» mag 170

i am lost,
i think,
but i don't know that yet

there is another me. she looks like me.
she has my hair and my glasses, and the same
set in her jaw as i do.
she is she and me and i am her
but i don't think i
know her.

just like i do, she sits, and she waits for
a story that i need to tell. she listens to thousands of others
- or maybe none at all? - and mine is another to tell.

nothing is right, i begin. the world is shifted and she should not be here.
my room isn't this grey and it isn't this sad.

did you know that
it's actually gray? i don't like the spelling. i had a conversation
with my friend once that it was grey not gray and they agreed
they are the only ones who do.
brits are strange, but they got the spelling of grey right, i think.
i like them, you know, the friend. or i would
because i did, but i don't know them anymore and
if i want to have another conversation on the real spelling of grey
i'd need to become their friend again.

i think i'm destined to be alone. all my friendships
snap in half like a chasm that was dug when i first knew them
and i never know why it started. why did it start? i don't even
who am i i don't know and i don't think they know either
but it does and i dont know if they care they think i dont care

who is they?
them?
they are five different people, but i dont know their faces
that's because they don't have one. or names, too.
at least, not ones that i know.
but they were all once my best friends. why don't i
they loved me and i can't remember their face.

they are all stained with paint

who are they.

i need to know that she loves me - i know she does.

she. she she she she who is she who am i
who? my friends? they all left me. all of them. all five.
chasms. some of them built a rope bridge but
some are still open voids i need to repair and the only people
who could ever stand to be around me are gone.
all five. what did i do? i miss you. come back.

i'm watching an echo. of myself. look, she's haunted.
she doesn't know it yet. she hasn't met the people she's
yet to love.
she's alone in this world. really, truly alone.
even her best friend can't stand to be around her.

maybe they're ghosts. maybe all the people i've ever loved are ghosts.

( 6.22 )