craters in the earth

I spend time with friends I’ve known a whole decade. they feel out of reach until we remember how to laugh together. for friendships sustained on the unfortunate foundations of grief, the joy I feel in their presence is remarkable to me. I ask about their work and relationships and marvel at just how different their lives are to my own. they talk about former school friends getting married and the next trips they want to take. I try to picture waking up in their shoes. in the morning, one goes to work to tend to the administration of a middle class country club. the other goes undercover to investigate crime across the city in which we’ve each grown and sobered into adulthood. I wake up and open my screen and forget about my friends and anything else until now. they both want to buy houses and wait for proposals from the men they love. I want to run away and never catch sight of a mirror again.

I draw boundaries I don’t enforce and take phone calls I don’t want to answer from a church that creeps its way into my sleep at night. in my dreams I am running from one task into another. there are craters in the earth caused by bombs and shells burning children alive. there is rain on the window and I want to do more than work today.