Drowning

Don’t ask why I sit alone in the dark. Hugging my bear to me. Curled up in the corner, comforter drawn to my chin. No, I am not sleeping. I told you not to question. I am sitting. Do you understand that? I am just being.

Don’t ask why there are tears making their own paths down my cheeks. Sliding silently from my eyes. Glistening upon my face. Until dropping with a resounding finality upon my worn brown comforter.  

[Brown. Such a neutral color. Comforting. Not really, but not bothering. It’s not something I have to think about. It’s just there. It is. I would like to be brown.]

Don’t ask why I’m trembling. I can see the comforter shaking. I don’t feel it. In my mind I am still. Like a statue. Like a corpse. Dead still.

Don’t ask. I don’t know.  

Don’t ask why I am so alone. A lighthouse on the edge of a rocky cliff. No. That’s not right. A dark stormy castle surrounded by a deep moat covered by the tempestuous clouds. Very romanticized.

[Romance. For all my logic and rationality, I am a Romantic. You can’t shape it. Make it square. It won’t fit. Yet it persists. It scares me.]

Don’t ask me why I have made myself alone. Hiding in the dark. Closing myself up in the closet. I am safe there. I am not exposed. It is comforting. It is brown. It is neutral. It is square.

It was all set. Planned. Mapped out. My facade. My interior. My exterior. Me. I had it on automatic. Cruise control. Auto reverse. Continuous play. I didn’t have to think. Feel. Do. I just was. A shell. But it was me.

Now. The door was opened. Forced. I willed a crack, but it was thrown open. Suddenly. It’s not brown. It’s not neutral. It’s black. It’s white. It’s either going back to the dark. Or to the light.

 The light. Blinding. Shocking. Exposing. It’s not square. Nebulous.

[Nebulous. Good. So expressive. That’s me. Weird words. Clung to. Holding on to. The one thing that is certain. Words. Black on white. Definitive. Solid. Safe.]

One faltering step inched forward. One toe cautiously put over the line. Crossed. Grabbed taken caught. Caged bird. New surroundings. No familiar home. It flutters about the water bottle. Drowning itself in the pure liquid. Losing itself in the intoxicating coolness. Cleansing. Hiding. Masking. I don’t have to think again, Feel.

I am empty. The shell has crumbled. There is no recourse. No new wall to build. Only soft pink tender. Exposed. Open to pain. Harm. Hell.

Solace with the potion of forgetfulness. Can forget problems. Unresolved. Not faced. Ignored. No feeling. No thought. Nothing frightening. Nothing irrational.

 Nothing.  

Empty. Alone. Scared. Lost. Drowning.

- In tears. In intoxication.  

Lost of the lifeless sea. Silently storming. Tossing. Battered. Bruised. Solitary.  

I was strong once in my fortress. Perhaps it was not reality, but I was protected. Safe from harm. Now. I am open. Free perhaps. But for what? To what?  

Before I knew. Everything was pre-mapped. Preset. Just push play.

 Thoughts. Words. Actions. Feelings. Prerecorded. Flip through the index, chose the appropriate one. Find and play.

 Free-for-all? Ad-lib?  

Nebulous.  

- But it is the words again. I can still hold on to them. I have nothing else. No base from which to begin. Except words. Nothing exists. Reality vs. unreality. Vs. Bullshit. Don’t ask me why. Don’t ask. I tell you, I don’t know.... but I want to.

(February 14, 1991)