babble babble
i am standing at the bow of my ship staring out over an endless sea of lonely nights spent shuffling back and forth shuttling and listening to the endless clamor of the highway. i am trapped here because of the fat-assed motherfucker sitting in the seat in front of me who reclined full tilt and stretched his sausage arms with the pork rind knuckles over the back of his seat and into my knees before the engine began to purr or stutter, depending. i can barely reach the keys because of this hoggish sloth and my too-long arms and i am cold on this shitty bus in this shitty night in the middle of my shitty, shitty life. torn and hungry and cold and uninterested in the hands extending help because i want to do it on my own and i know i can't but i have, have, have to. not sure who i'm trying to prove wrong or even if that is an objective. i just want my life in my corner of the wild and unkind world so that i may lie in the arms of my shelter and feel the illusion of safety and security and stability and consistency. i want to go but i have nowhere to be and no green in my pocket or my pipe and i can sense that soon the road will crack and i will risk falling all the way through into the other side my arms up over my head my hair all wild in the falling air and my screaming screaming screaming i am going down and i think the weight on my shoulders will push me down faster and more ruthlessly. i want my life. i want my life and i can taste my life and i've worked so hard to run from the hellhole that i just can't go back i won't go back. please please don't make me go back i want my life the life that i made for me the one that's mine my place in the world my niche in the chaos i want it and it is mine and i want it oh please let me have it. i have tasted the untamed outsides i have lain beside the most beautiful being i will ever know i have shivered in the most unforgiving night and i have known the glory of spring incoming. i am on the edge of my ship staring out over an endless sea of lonely nights dashed with the whitecaps of uncertainty. i do not know where i will sleep in six weeks or where the body that is beside me in bed will be or how i will break my bread or who will raise my dead i do not know i do not know i do not know and i could cry. i am so afraid this is so big i am so small there is so much to do. so so so much. reapplying and applying and begging and hunting and scrounging and scraping and being a single unchained unaided unassisted being my very own self my very own my my mine i want to stand on my own two feet i know they are small and untrained but they are strong and i will run through the blisters and the blood. i want to live in this evil city in this evil world with my quiet light in the savage night he and i will hold arms in the feral metropolis i just want my life. my life. my my my mine. and his hand to hold. i want to stand in my created world and open the door and bring him in. i cannot go back to the hellhole i cannot go back to some monster and abuse and no love and demons with an old enemy's face. i shake like a leaf at the far end of autumn and i am terrified. the sea stretches so far in front of me and i've licked my finger and held it to the air i've checked my compass and learned the map but i still cannot find the wind or fathom the course i am still so so so adrift in the unforgiving ocean of this precious life.