A block past her house, at the point where I know it's just straight ahead to my building and the steps, the air beat right out of me. My eyes stared wildly around me, my breath short, I knew I knew nothing of the life I lead. They sat at the bars with their smug New York faces and I wanted so terribly to be in their midst. So many stories of those streets, so many pictures painted of a life in the City that once was mine.
Spring stirs in me. It reminds me of a life I once intended to live. The words bowl around my edges, the images. Write these sentences, wring them inside out, inhale the noxious fumes of their insanity.
This anxiety that veers at my gut, it is not an unwelcome stranger. It nudges harshly at corners soft with the years, it stabs at veins I have so long kept sewn up. Today I bleed.
Tomorrow, perhaps, I leave.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment