Thursday, February 26, 2009

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I Internalize Everything

The night was dark.
There were owls in the woods
next to my house making strange sounds.
The sounds were deeper and longer than normally.
I felt they were trying to tell me something,
but then I thought I was probably over-analyzing things
and forgot about them.
I put on three layers of clothes and went outside.

I am going to the store to buy a can of beans and a loaf of wheat bread.
I am poor and don’t work very often.
Hopefully I will be able to steal the bread and the beans,
but the bread is so big
and I’ve always been a terrible shoplifter.
I think that it’s mostly because of my anxiety.
If I had Xanax I could steal the bread,
confidently sticking it underneath my sweat shirt,
but I don’t have any Xanax,
so I will probably just buy the bread and I am okay with that.

When I got to the store it was bright and gigantic
and I felt like a frightened eight year old girl.
There was a person standing by the door
and it is their job to greet and smile at me.
I thought then that heaven wouldn’t be some abstract cloudy lounge in the sky,
it would be a grocery store where you don’t have to pay for anything.
Only the person who says “hello”
would be much more attractive,
and would be wearing a much more soothing color scheme.
I felt as if I had died because the lighting was so extreme
and the color scheme was so bad.

I spent the next hour of my life walking around and looking at things
in the grocery department.
Then I felt like people started to gawk at me with their eyes and I thought:
“I have to leave now!”
and then purchased the bread and beans and walked passed the gawking eyes until it was black again;
back outside .

On my way walking home
I tried communicating telepathically with someone,
saying:
“Come to my house”
and
“I feel lonely”.
Either I hadn’t tried hard enough
or I don’t know how to communicate in this manner,
because when I arrived at my house
no one was there.

The owls were starring down from the trees.
Their eyes looked hungrily around observing things.
“I am terrified of owls”
I thought and then rushed inside,
fumbling with my keys.
I threw my possessions onto to the floor of my room,
closed the door behind me,
and spent the rest of the night alone
communicating with myself.

“It is too dark outside tonight”
I said to myself.

A few hours later I fell asleep sitting on the ground
with a beer in my hand
and then woke up in the middle of the night,
went into the bathroom,
looked at myself in the mirror
and hated what I saw.

I saw two blood shot eyes
and a night of restless sleep ahead of me.

5 comments:

  1. i like the poem and think the owl looks really funny

    ReplyDelete
  2. someone is reading the poem on the light post outside my house as I write this....

    ReplyDelete
  3. i like this a lot
    its 2012

    ReplyDelete