Taking Care

1 August 2018

Today my house smells of mangos, christmas trees and heat,
the air is sticky and clings to the inside of my lungs like an idea
grew legs and crawled down my throat to make a home in my gut.
Now the concept of change makes me nauseous
bile rises from my stomach like the time I downed half a bottle of vodka
and everyone was so impressed they thought it might’ve been water but
my mouth tasted like kerosene, i could’ve breathed fire.
I just wanted to forget that I was growing

When we danced on the road and
you watched me laugh at the idea of being hit by a bus
i can’t apologise for the chemicals in my brain but I’m sorry,
forgiving, forgiven, for giving you reason to be concerned.
But i’m glad
You dialled the number when my eyes were too blurred to see,
my voice too slurred and broken by tears to be understood,
the world doesn’t deserve my inconsistencies.

We went from dancing on the street
to playing chess between sheets,
before the world turned my stomach
and red lingerie stained the bathroom tiles
I cried because I saw the way you looked at me,

It broke my heart the way i broke the porcelain cup
that used to sit on that ugly, tan-coloured shelf
and maybe i was missing doorways,
steps, and the point to this madness,
maybe it wasn’t worth the thirteen hours running
from the couch to the toilet and back,
a new bruise each trip, you,
holding back my hair.

It wasn’t just the cup that lay shattered on
that floor, our floor.
Your floor?
How was I to know I wasn’t welcome anymore,
Where were the warning signs?
“No trespassers allowed”?
I didn’t crawl through a fence to get here.

Tomorrow my house will smell of rain, cut grass and winter,
I’ll add another blanket to my bed to keep warm.

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