we found Heaven in time
Coming off the heels of three straight cycles forced to confront myself. I spent yesterday devolving back into a mess pattern. Drank a little too much, sang a little too loud, smoked a little too heavy. Ready to drown in a social pattern I had felt starved of.
Today was a shock to the system when I found myself wanting nothing more than to spend it with myself. Leaving a long day of work to make curry and drink my nightly tallboy like I was coming home to myself. I'm my own wife now I guess.
The world made a new announcement with a fresh way it wants to kill me. Unpacked my anxiety with a sister. Walked downstairs to bother my brother for some booze before payday. Did combat with my temptation to run. Had a fistfight with my temptation to drown myself in meaningless temptations.
Once my bra freed me from its iron shackle I felt it all melt away. Cut fresh summer squash from a friends garden, gazed gleefully at my cicadas again. Felt myself in their fragile bodies. How good their freedom must feel. How gorgeous it is to be so delicate. How empowering...
A night to myself means screeching along with mother Ethel. "Love's never meant much to me". I'm relishing my nightly nicotine waves in a dress that's far too short. Eating my standard fare pocked with scorched textures of a neglected cast iron. Distracting my meal with the yammering of my favorite cissexual video game meatheads, flanked by what feel like two of the neediest sphinx statues to ever rest atop my unreasonably large couch. A couch that I esteem like a prized poach from a home that never wanted my truth to taint it's dull hallways.
In the blue light of my living room letting my secret freckles glean their beauty to the world once more, I've fallen back in love with my endless legs and sturdy collarbones and waifish shoulders and Aspen tree branch upper limbs.
Cherishing yourself is a necessity, but sometimes it feels like such a privilege.