4 months ago

Comfortable Madness First PDF 4-13-18

Unconditional I

Unconditional I couldn’t make my legs work. The lights drilled directly into my skull. Cars screamed loud and dangerous on the street outside. What was I supposed to do? I closed my eyes. Gid came and sat with me, dressed in king’s robes made of light and lilies. He said nothing. Even here, his face was invisible behind a livid smudge. I wanted to touch him. I had so many questions, but my tongue was too swollen to speak. He just stared at me and shook his head. He rose and stood in the corner and for some reason I cried. Tears burned my cheeks. I couldn’t breathe. I felt sick. The room spun. Gid ran his finger along my spine. My bones shuddered. I puked. “You’re killing yourself,” he said. I lie on the floor and felt his breath on my neck. How am I going to get out of this? I closed my eyes. Somehow, I knew when he left. I knew when I was alone. But only for a moment. Tayla shook me. “Jesus,” she said. “Are you okay?” I opened my eyes. Vomit crusted my chest and belly. It spread in a chunky pool over the carpet. “Butter,” she said. Her voice was tight with worry and anger. Nothing was simple with Tayla. “You need a shower,” she said. I was too weak to move. Tayla lifted me. “Come on,” she said. The bathroom’s naked bulb blinded me. I fell again. “Shit,” Tayla said. I wanted to say something but how do you tell someone about a dream that walks in the real world? Gid was right. I was dying.

Voices and Visions Night. Everything was the color of plums. No stars. No moon. No light but for the fire at the end of my cigarette. Rain, a simple mist, and mountainous winds. Three days without sleep. Voices told me I was dying, that it would be better, less painful, if I did it myself. Dark figures reached for me like the ghosts of so many forgotten memories. I shuddered and tried not to cry. Maybe the voices were right. Maybe dying would be easier. At least then, I’d rest. But I couldn’t. Tayla would never forgive me. She’d crumble to dust. Trees at the edge of the yard held their naked hands to the sky, wooded priests singing a silent mass. A cat slinked like a thief along the fence. This early in the morning everything seemed thick and shady. The world seemed to wait for something. Tension held everything together, just barely. I waited. I waited and smoked, and I listened to the robins screaming up the day. Soon the sun would rise, and I’d see the world, hard and edgy and maybe I’d split myself open. My throat felt gritty and sour. If this was it, if I were to die right now, I knew I’d make more pain than I ended, but did it matter? Would anyone notice I was gone?