While he dreamt of flying, Hagar was dying.

Are you sick? What are you sick of? I’m sick, too. I think you know what I’m sick of. And I’m begging myself to let go forever. Because I know you’ll think I’m selfish no matter what I do. I might as well commit.

What do you think? I don’t know what to think. I thought I made up my mind about you, but you test me. Everything I do is always wrong. Please, please let me stop doing anything. You’ll probably spend the rest of your life dying of me, knowing in your heart I’m the one who killed you. But if I keep this up, I’m the one who’s gonna die. Please let me go. I don’t wanna be with you anymore. You’re killing me. And I know it. And I need to save myself before it’s too late. Or I will die of you. I think I need to leave you to die of me.

Go on, die of me. Let me live. It’s what you’re supposed to do or why did you bring me into this world.

If I live, you will die of me, and if I die, you will die of me. Go ahead. Die of me. Die of me.



dark ages.

we belong in the dark ages. i’ve lost the ability to read.

all i can remember is smoking with you under the NO SMOKING sign and you sinking to the ground and us sitting on the cement and shivering and the holes in my jeans and you telling me we can go back inside.

you giving me the rest of your cigarettes.

losing them.

then after that, i blinked.

then, we were standing together on the sidewalk. i was wearing a white dress. it was supposed to be 30-something degrees, but i didn’t feel cold. i put everything in the trunk. it took less than an hour to get to that spot on the sidewalk. so little hassle for so much living. we laughed so much, i felt like i was breathed back into being. i let you go. casually. i walked down the sidewalk. i looked back at all of the cars. all of them were silver. none of them were yours.



leaving today was so impossible.

i’m more impossible.

everything moved around me.

and i watched.

i stopped doing that

for a while.




i think i can do it again.

i feel endless.

isn’t there power in watching things happen and choosing not to participate?

i didn’t use to think so.

but it feels that way now.

i didn’t want to leave.

but i should be everywhere.


The Storylines Are All Converging

I’ve been thinking a lot about this scenario. I am in the city. It is really dark. I am sitting on the edge of a pier by the water. I am really high up. I could practically be in the cosmos and nothing anyone has ever said to me matters.

Here’s the thing. I don’t ever have to come back down. I can stay high above everyone and barely hear a word anyone says to me. I think this is why I’m so frustrated right now. I can’t find my higher ground.