It has been a long while hasnt it my old friend? Since we laughed and talked in the old way, worlds blending into one garbled fluid dance, we made marvelous partners, you and I. Oh, how we moved through gardens and caves and fields and we played. We let joy flood our face pretending we were one. Not in truth only in jest but those moments, do you remember? What were you just thinking? You had a look in your eye and the ghost of a smile. Maybe you thought of me back where you left me. I’m still here waiting. Inside this house with its mouse-filled walls and its creaky floors. I still get splinters when I move from room to room, hiding from the shadows. They still haunt me here. Still scratch at my bedroom door. Whispering for more. It gets lonely here. I’ve made friends with the bats, remember how we used to watch them fly out of the house into the evening sky? We watched them grow smaller and smaller as they flew further away. We wondered if we’d grow wings so we could fly. Grow smaller and smaller. I hope you come get me. It’s dark here and the walls are not silent. They whisper secrets I’d rather not hear. Tell me stories I’m trying to forget. I miss you, you know. Do you miss me too? You must. You must feel empty too. 

Letter to an Unnamed Lover

I had a good day today. I laughed often and drank good coffee and tried a new beer. It was good. Made with coconut. I sat at the bar and stared at the writing on my open notebook page. Words written while lifted with pot and booze. Something about my heart and the universe and the connection between the two.  

I talked with some strangers. Women. Beautiful. They seemed extra human to me today, set against the backdrop of a sort of nightmarish reality I see forming around me. Their eyes seemed brighter somehow…I don’t know. 

I’m writing you this letter because I don’t know who else to turn to. I need you now, in a way I’ve never needed anyone. I need you to rise up and meet me. To light me up, rip me open. I need you to teach me how to be human. How to have passion. 

How to connect.

I have a broken vagina. It stopped working months ago, well, years ago. Truth be told I’m not 100% certain it got hooked up properly. I need you to repair it. I don’t care what you’ve got to do down there, but make it right.

I know it seems like I’m asking a lot from you, but I don’t know who else to turn to. I don’t know who else to lean on. I’ve known you for so long, and you’ve carried me through so much, I just need you to be here for me now. I need you to tell me I’m beautful, whisper sweet nothings in my ear, dust off my knees when I fall down. I need you to be my steady voice of encouragement when the world just seems like too much.

Because the world seems like too much.

I need you to do this for me. For us. For this. This wild, maddening, gorgeous haze we call life. Because, lover, it’s going to get worse before it gets better. I promise. And I need you.