213 to 212


semi-autobiographical
creative writing 
new york and los angeles.
isolation, identity, autonomy, globalism.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

in the photo

my eyes were sunken, framed by protruding cheekbones. barely there eyebrows rounded out the look. a goofy smile so sad you couldn’t bear to laugh. she was in the hospital again. This time I took her there. I stayed up all night until a sleepy med student stiched her up under the blue grey lights as she lay passed out in the bed. Six hours after we arrived the med student sent her off to that other floor. This time they managed to keep her six days. I don’t think I ever realized it was real until now. I didn’t know what to do. I had no money so I didn’t eat. I visited every day not ever knowing what to say even though I’d been there myself, years earlier. I brought her magazines and mix CDs and cigarettes in silence and nodded to her parents when they passed me on the way out. I guess I still had some sincerity left at that point. I hadn’t been attacked. I parked in all the garages and listened to Kanye West’s track with the Dialated Peoples. A strange calmness blanketed the nights I spent alone in our apartment. I did my homework and our dog slept in my lap. One time I forgot she wasn’t there and tried to talk to her. It was before she was mean to me. She was still lashing out at her mom. She hadn’t turned on me yet but she would.

1 comment:

K Star said...
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About Me

My photo
Influences besides NY&LA: Francesca Lia Block, Mary, Courtney Love, Janet Fitch, Casey & Nick, Lindsay, My sisters, Rachel, Jessica, Melina, Gabe, Annie, Peggy Ellsberg & the Ells Girls aka Meli Julie & Sherrie, Jenny, Bob Dylan, Suede, Shirley Manson, Heidi Sigmund Cuda, Gwen Stefani, Bad Religion, Beyond Scents, thrift stores, JetBlue & the Airtrain, Telluride, Faith Hill, Peeps, Pete Wentz