from bed, she reached for my arm

sniffling through thursday i realized i might desecrate the real estate if my markers don’t keep their caps on

i’m impulsive

they’re responsible (the caps)

i kept wondering, who’s afraid of losing everyone if the time is right for me to move on and continue this plastic emotion piling up for future generations left with charlie brown sippy cups and forgotten glass jars that used to hold our consciousness

you said it was a reminder

it was your best gift

that empty jar

you told me to stare at it when you were away

it held us

i can’t remember if i threw it down or accidentally knocked it over it was mid december and the people were practicing how’d they’d greet later sunsets and cancer walking tombs

televangelists came to our door

it’s not jesus they want it’s your little girls mind to refine this garbage pail philosophy that subservience is the key

leather whips hang in the closet waiting to zipper my mouth shut and cross our eyes for something more tame this friday night

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