20 - 12/23 - bullshit

 Quiet thumping on the outside door as I turn the second to last page. I look up but I don’t want to get up. I don’t have it in me. I’m entranced by the pause, the waiting for another knock, but in that moment of decision I leave myself and I let my everything be held in silence. I wonder if they love me. I scrap that thought. I decide that patience is stupid, but because I was held, I have an obligation to hold, or to at least grasp, at least reach. Outstretched I carry myself to the outside door. She returns nothing but a windy porridgeless night, and disappointed so, I slide lumpingly back to the chair in front of the cold fireplace. I suck the blanket back across my back and my chest and then my legs and hopefully my feet, with enough shuffling, my feet will no longer be cold. Socks are all the way upstairs. I’m so tired I couldn’t do that whatever it may be even if I tried, which I obviously won’t because I’m tired.

A single tear rolls down my cheek, perhaps and likely because I've held my eyes open for too long. i think of all the people I have tried to be and hold my breath. If i exhale... If I exhale.... If i exhale. Shaking myself loose will not do the trick. What tricks the doer is a good long exhale.