You(‘re)
Part 1
You’re in the city where you grew up. You have your favorite shirt on. Cigarette in your hand. All you can think about is how much you want to go home. To your real home, because after all home is where you think your heart is. You’re late. But it doesn’t matter; you’re together. The smell of sex. It drives a part of you that transcends the illusion of primal instinct. Perhaps it’s the feeling of the home you so desperately seek to dwell. Your most recent thought being on the probity of family, although your family hates you. You hate this place. The reasons span decades. You think about your school teachers. Your friends. Your first job. Your first blow job. What makes you, you. Him. You think you know him. What makes him, him. The look he gives that makes your stomach turn. Sometimes upside down. Sometimes, just a different direction. You’re in the moment. In time, in space. Etched into the memory of your soul eternally. You’re hot. Sweat dripping down the side of your face. You’re on the run. The things you say have consequences. You never think things through. You’re in trouble. You reach out for help. You’re falling. Into darkness. No reference. A blank canvas. A time to weep. A time to laugh. But you can’t figure out which to do right now. Your feet find solid ground. Your room. You collapse onto your bed and find that someone is already in it. He turns to you. Its him. The one that broke your heart into a million pieces, half of which you never bothered to look for. You embrace. A knife. You’re bleeding. You look down. A knife. You take it out, covered in your own blood. A knife. You’re thrusting it into the heart of the one you once loved. You feel the rush of the destruction of a once beautiful thing. Retaliation is the only thing you ever learned from your father. A bridge. You’re running across a bridge. The weight of the world chasing you. You run towards a life you’ll never have. You run from a life you’ll always have. The bridge will never end. You’re running. Into time, into space. And this time, it’s real.
