journal #2019

i thought i had it but it went flickering off and on again like shoddy electricity or a super big storm. you can have something and then lose it. it's disturbing but it's true. so i glued it to the wall where i could keep my eyes on it. i posted it on the mirror, after the glue wore out and it dropped behind a stack of books and papers. i brushed my teeth to the sound of it, foaming at the mouth. one night it swam down the drain. i broke it out of the plumbing system, what a messy affair. i let it dry beside the jade tree, on the windowsill, hoping against hope it would never leave me again. but it fled underground, planting itself beneath the jade. i watered her faithfully, against the wishes of the jade, until the roots took it up and brought her back to me, a flower. i smiled. i picked her off and thread it into my hair. everyone commented how pretty we were, together. then, that spring, the wind carried her away... when i listen very close, i can still hear her calling, my voice, calling for me. that's when i know i must be alone. and write.

west sacramento. 2019 by katya