If I
could describe this past week in a single sentence, it would be something like
this:
The
weather channel is coughing and squeaking while your Snap Chat app is
suspiciously peeking at your lazy eye drifting to the death of your friendship
and strains from the stress as it fights and defends it, so you hope that your words
make amends for the beating as if love makes the menu, the venue, or the
seating, and right then, you fall down and find yourself repeating a cold rhyme
scheme as the situation’s heating, then you wrap your repentance in a run-on
sentence that is spell-checked twice to assure its acceptance and stapled to a poem
as a letter of reference to the internet fraternity of bathroom attendants,
whose only request is that you be less graphic when you check on the weather just
to check on the traffic, so you put on the Youtube and max out the speaker to
drown out the sound because the silence is weaker, and when no one’s the
student and no one’s the teacher and no one is trying to fill in the feature,
the silence that follows is slower and harder since no one’s the killer and no
one’s the martyr.
Needless to say, stability
and I continue to remain such tender opposites. While I can’t seem to bring myself to meet
with her during sensible hours, I always bump into her out of the blue.
Surprisingly, I always fail to make her proper acquaintance. She called me once
by accident, you know. She butt-dialed me from a blocked number on my
graduation night, leaving only a voicemail with faint directions intended for
someone else. I think she said something about where and when to meet her the
following night. I couldn’t make all the words out completely, but it was
pleasant to know she had my number.
After all, I'm still dripping into tomorrow. It would be impolite of me to arrive with my own glass of wine.
