my brother calls me from his evening. I ride my Monday morning to the sound of his answers to my questions about the future. he is scared and uncertain and the first blossoms of Spring hang a little early under vacant street lamps. we talk about maybe living together again. everything is far from certain but I miss him and wish we could know some things for sure. I think about sharing solitude with him, how long it's been since last we shared a home in each other's heads. when we are together dread and disappointment matter less. when he hangs up they return like neglectful friends overcompensating for an absence they want me to forget.
I fear the rug being pulled with the curtain, being exposed for what I am and left in the dark with other toys you've had enough of. I fear the space between knowing I am worth what I hoped or felt I had been for a moment in your eyes. I fear this fear and his tentacles, a self obsession that dwarfs the heart that pulsed for something more. the world doesn't stop burning for my sulking into myself. that I think about being forgotten more than the rivers of blood on my phone is the greatest nightmare I have willed to life. I fear forgetting myself and what I taught him to stand for. I fear the day I choose my petty tears.
but there is fear and there are dreams. no matter where I am there are never more than hours between dread and falling into lifetimes I don't understand. each breath is one breath closer to letting go. tonight I dream and leave myself. tomorrow when I wake I only wait a little while to do the same again.
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