Stranger

It is…

… astonishing…

… numbing, to find…

… that inside you there is a stranger.

One that has your…

… arms…

… your legs…

… your eyes.

A sleepless, restless stranger…

… who keeps walking…

… keeps eating…

… keeps…

… living.

***

– There is no going back
to that other person…

… that other place.

This thing, this stranger…

… she is all you are now.

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a question

+ Let me ask you a question.

Just us.

How did you…
…pull it back together
after what happened to you?

– You don’t.

+ I’m sorry.

– No, no.
– Jacked-up question, man.

– It’s a fair question. You…

You become someone else.

A stranger.

+ You must have loved him very much.

– Yeah.

+ Sometimes that just makes it harder,
you know. You just wish you didn’t.

Fear

it is horrible…

…to fear the place you once loved.

And to see a street corner
you knew so well…

…and be afraid of its shadow.

To see familiar steps,
be unable to climb them.

I never understood
how people lived with fear.

Women afraid to walk home alone…

…people afraid of…

…white powder in their mailbox…

…darkness and night.

People afraid of people.

I always believed that fear
belonged to other people.

Weaker people.

It never touched me.

And then it did.

And when it touches you, you know…

…that it’s been there all along…

…waiting beneath the surfaces
of everything you loved.

And your skin crawls…

…and your heart sickens…

…and you look at the person you once were

walking down that street…

…and you wonder, will you?

Will you ever be her again?

a piece

stories of a city…

… that is disappearing before our eyes.
Its people swept over…

So, what will be left of those stories?

Are we going to have to construct an
imaginary city to house our memories?

Because when you love something,
every time a bit of it goes…
… you lose a piece of yourself.

a piece of yourself..