oh, joyeuses pâques

lulling myself into a numb klonopin trance and reading Francesca Lia Block and wishing desperately for her luscious deep red LA nights, not the dirty concrete sun-bleached city i see. where does she find it? because i am lost and retching here.

[photo removed]

ignore the easter chocolate i just threw up and that that didn't come back up.

ignore the cats tackling each other and knocking over boxes.

ignore the constant ambient drone of the freeway out the window.

ignore the pathetic lack of any shareable writing that was just pointed out unintentionally by a very cute poet-neighbor.

ignore what you don't have to show for yourself at the age you are.

ignore your issues. ignore your past. ignore your issues. ignore your past. ignore your issues. ignore your past. they are too consequential. they are too much.

i am too much.

numb and numb and numb. ignoring my parents' voicemail to wish me happy easter and

can you call back tonight? no, probably not. how to say i love you when i'm not sure i do?

sometimes i am made of nothing.

sometimes i am made of novocain. numb to the touch, close your eyes i'm not here, but still taking up time, taking up space.

i am, as ever, too much.

.

my friend and her girlfriend come over and we play, we flirt, we smoke cigarettes in the dark and drink red wine, and then suddenly it is the two of them on the floor cuddling and me alone on the couch. trying to ignore. me alone in the back seat as a child, counting the telephone lines as they pass, one, two, don't listen, three, four, i'm not here anymore, five, six, i no longer exist, seven, eight, nine, for ever and ever amen.

[photo removed]

this wine makes my head spin and i can't finish this post. alone again and sad and i can't laugh and sometimes it's just easier to pretend you're asleep when they come back inside. just say i'm writing and giggle and leave it at that. pretend it's something brilliant. pretend to pass out. pretend you're not fucked up. pretend pretend pretend. even make-believe gets old after a while. sooner or later we have to grow up and take off the makeup and mommy's shoes or else push deeper our most sacred secrets.

these days i am toxic with it.