77. sometimes i just need to know that you won’t die


the week is nearly over. again.
and it feels like rain on skin in the heat of summer, raising goosebumps in spite of its warmth.

i never want anything to end.
not even nightmares.
i drag them out carefully, tossing and turning, roasting, like a pig, in my own cold sweat.
i had one every night this week. sometimes two. and i remember. i don’t keep tabs on my subconsiousness because it scares me. the brutality of the mind always scares me. and i dream of death. of death and failure.
y flores. flores para los muertos.

right now, my world is a house made of paper: cards with pretty scribbles on them, where blanche‘s words i lived in a house where dying old women remembered their dead men have more than substance; they have depth to go on and on, revolving in my head.

i’ve seen them from every angle. i swear.

what is it with death?
i’ve always said i have to die before the one i love. i couldn’t stand life otherwise. and i’ve made you promise you won’t die before me. i’ve made you promise me the unthinkable, the unpredictable, the unpromisable.

i did it just because sometimes i just need to know that you won’t die.

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5 responses to “77. sometimes i just need to know that you won’t die

  1. Nice write… loved your blog, great work :)

  2. My favorite: “and it feels like rain on skin in the heat of summer, raising goosebumps in spite of its warmth.” Also the Spanish you inserted. I’ve had nightmares this week. . .hmmmm.

  3. The nod to Blanche (“A Streetcar Named Desire”) is brilliant. Great work :-)

  4. this is really interesting. nightmares have such a strange way of creeping into the waking world too, you can never get them out of your head. i love your writing

  5. thanks guys :)
    really appreciate you reading my stuff :):):) xx

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