Sunday, April 8, 2018

Editing this

Reason Number Three: When something disappoints you, why would you return to it like some sort of lost dog? Some Pit Bull maybe, banging its face against the bars in fruitless hope? The promise of love, of care, of commitment, only to be leashed, walked, and killed?

Wherefore art thou? Thou art euthanized.

I gather my books and stuff them into my bag. Time to leave the classroom, go find my janky Civic, get behind the wheel, and drive over to the phony-swank spaghetti palace, except it feels like my Converse are Super-Glued to the floor. Super Glue does no good Rooster always says. Duct tape. That fixes everything.

Why am I thinking about my father’s opinions on household adhesives?

Why can’t I handle the fact that the roof is coming down, that the walls are closing in?

Matt’s gone, Romeo too. The best friend I trusted waited until my back was turned and then hand-crafted a KICK ME sign.

The places I went to for help instead harmed me. The doors I knocked on for support stayed closed. 

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