If, the girl whispers, I do not go into the fire I will not be able to live with my soul. -Adrienne Rich, "Leaflets"
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I awoke at 4 to rain. My abdomen was screaming, clenched up with tightness, reminding me of who I am every second I was awake. I yanked on the window but it stuck open. It was dark; I could see nothing while absently groping my way back to bed. Sleep did not return. Instead, thoughts. Last summer; more summers. Years. The feeling of a tangible forever.