Notes App Poem - Tumblr Posts
-Botox - 2022
kitchen fridge (november 29, 2022)
The sun is coming through the window at just the right angle and this house isn't really a home anymore. Memories ooze from the floor and fill up the room till I feel the need to run to the bathroom and throw up. The ghosts in the memories point and taunt, pictures perfect versions of who we once were.
We whispered lies through tight embrace, deceiving our bodies till they bled. Things don't ever truly change, I tell myself, we are still we. But our family lives in different states.
This house isn't really a home anymore, not with us gone. My soul left with your bodies, with dollar store sushi and Othello on the floor and nights turned to mornings. I have never used the word family to describe it but perhaps it is, ones we never had. Them turns to us and then back again.
This house is built on ghosts. They climb in through your mouth when you're sleeping, choking you up in the mornings when you see the pictures and little passing notes on the kitchen fridge. They travel down, pulling on your heartstrings, leaving a funny feeling called "ring my phone when you get the chance" in your stomach. It doubles you over with nausea. Before they go, they travel all the way down to your knees, making you think that they;re still scabbed and skinny like when you all first met. The ghosts leave you to bleed out in broad daylight. The delirious feeling brings a promise to come again.
This house was built on memories, back when it was a home. Wishbones make up the frame and Sundays build the drywall, our bodies curled out inside. Shooting stars and fallen eyelashes mark the distance between us and I keep waiting for that call, waiting to see a stranger to show up on the doorstep with their bags and a gift, something too meaningful to reduce to a three letter word like hug or maybe a three word phrase I've heard come from them before.
Grow old and grow out. Cracked bones heal over stronger, and when a good thing comes your way you'd be smart to go running after (I was never too bright). The way life simply is will never seize to sneak up on me and make my nose bleed. I want to ask if we are still an us anymore, but underneath the taped together photographs on the kitchen fridge, I know the answer.