A Thought For A Tough Day

It never crossed my mind that one day this would end. So many years of fried eggs on burned toasts and cigarette butts stinking thorough the basement. Last time we looked into each other’s eyes was when our dog died. You looked at me like there was no reason left to wake up in the morning, but I understood it as something else. Can a dog take away a person’s sense of self?

When Pisco died, I remember like it was yesterday. We were just out of the pool and your strong arms were shining in the August almost angled sun. The golden light made a delicate shadow under the veins that wrap your muscles and I started to wonder if you would ever hug me again.

You visited my dream last night, wearing that earthy-brown button up shirt I like. It was so sexy, so natural, I wish REMs lasted forever. It felt so comforting in a way that I don’t feel for so long… Why don’t they teach in schools how to self-sooth?

Sometimes I think I sort of like to chase these entangled situations, but then I remember it might be a generational thing: too old to cry and yet, too young to die. What does it leave us with? Regret, hope, hunger… Is it possible to digest air?

Na ja, I’m just tired. I’m like a whiny baby begging for attention. I wonder what is Pisco eating in Heaven? I’m not sure if god knows he’s allergic to chicken. Anyway, I’m not on dog poop duty anymore so, yeah… there’s that.

The price I would pay to have my loved ones back is indescribable. I wonder if god knows my aunt loves to have an orange for dessert. She was never really picky with food, but you wouldn’t wanna be close if someone was cleaning the floor while she ate. I miss her way more than I miss Pisco.