If you find yourself awake in the early hours of the morning,
you may be lonely and tired
or there might be a body beside yours
but you are safe,
and that is all that matters.
Once I was a person, but now
I am a ball of dust, I am a tumbleweed.
I am a scatterbrain. My thoughts are all over the place -
dust bunnies under the desk,
blue edges on the cheese.
And still - I go to bed
at 2am and watch the moon all night
with the window open so I can hear the howling.
I perch on the edge with my eyes wide open and the lights on dim
to search for the glitter of the axe murderer’s eyes in the corner.
I have watched too many horror movies,
I am too easily scared. I know you are safe.
I hope you are okay. I hope you are home.
|—||young horror | ishani jasmin|
By the time we fall asleep tonight,
someone’s fingers had better smell like the insides of my upper thighs.
I don’t care whose, but I’d rather yours than mine.
When my parents are down south,
they take me out to dinner. I don’t talk about this.
They drive me to my old bedroom. I sleep in the car
because I am scared to talk,
and I pretend to be asleep for a second too long as we pull into the dark garage,
hoping that someone will pick up my adult body and put it away.
Lately I’ve been taking extra pleasure in small books
and baby boomers telling me that the music I listen to has no soul.
They tell me my dress is too short, too
but I’m out of my depth with anything
below my fingertips.
I knit together words and pretend there’s a knack to this. My teachers all think
I’m made of gold, but I drink to get drunk
just like everyone else. I think the difference might be that
I plan to drink five days in advance.
|—||i’m tired, but i’ve probably been worse | ishani jasmin|
I swear to god I’m trying, I’m trying so hard
but it’s so hard to get up right now. I got up this morning
and went downstairs and ate some salad my dad made last night for breakfast.
I’d have poured myself cereal, but I don’t think I was able to make something. I don’t think
I would have been able to mix something together and call it okay.
I went back to bed
and it took me four times longer than usual to get up and shower.
God, I hate myself. I’m a wreck.
God, I hate myself. I’m a stack of regrets with temporary enthusiasm
drizzled across my face like syrup on pancakes.
I went to bed. I went to bed. I went to bed at 1pm
and I feel fucking useless. I am apparently in
a place where I feel like I am disappointing people for being like this
but I don’t know how else to be. I am in a place
where going to bed justifies the rest of the day solidly turned in on myself.
I do not know how to leave.
I do not want to talk about this.
What’d be the point in turning to you and crying, ‘I’m sinking, I’m sinking.’
when you would just point out how gracefully I’m doing it?
I do not need to be told I am fine
because I know that I am not fine. I know
that I want to go to bed and I don’t want to wake up.
I am watching myself race myself in the shallow end of a pool.
I know that I’m sinking,
and I know I will struggle back to the surface,
but I don’t know what happens in between. I don’t know
how or why I will start kicking again.
|—||i’m sinking, i’m sinking | ishani jasmin|
I could almost feel the earth rumble with every step he took.
I don’t know what to feel.
I just typed ‘punk’s not dead’
and I think if the world woke up tomorrow,
and this was nothing more than an awkward dream,
I’d still pray on the way home.
I could stomach it if only you knew how awful this book was.
It might have scarred you,
which makes me feel better.
I’ve been thinking about thinking
and it just feels like a numb hazy feeling.
|—||'what are you thinking right now?' i said. | ishani jasmin|