Thursday, December 9, 2010

Rhythm of loneliness

I unlock the door and walk into my apartment.
Put down my purse and take off my rings and clothes, I do not bother hanging them in my closet.
I lie down (or lay myself down) on the living room floor,
my head and my body feels so heavy and distant
that I almost feel like I could convince myself that I'm dead.
But it doesn't go away.
I roll around-right, right, left, swing my legs and arms,
my eyelids up and down, atmosphere opens and closes
but it doesn't go away.
I walk over to the fridge and take out the orange juice and drink it right out of the carton.
A simple, mindless gesture becomes a
reassurance that I'm the only person who will ever drink this orange juice,

here we go again.