Prodigal

I’m sad about a lot of things right now. Empty and unsure. Anticipating the next phase of this darkness. This tangible self-harming madness that has been playing in my mind for the past 24 hours. Yesterday I was scared. Almost terrified. I tried to hide in myself but I had too many places to be at. Too many things to be for other people. Too many laughs and inside jokes to share with people I had promised a good time. It was friday after all. But today I’m here. I’m alone. I’m un-wrapping the wounds checking if the lack of solitude yesterday had miraculously healed them. I’m waiting for God or some other creator of the universe to make their way past all my sins and cigarette smoke. To pick me up from this nothingness.

It’s some time past 2 in the afternoon this side. I woke up with fear gripping the insides of my stomach and helplessness ringing in my ears like an un-snoozed alarm. Ironic isn’t it? How early yesterday morning I read a book on hopelessness and today I feel that way. Maybe the universe is playing tricks on me and the devil is dancing along. I do not know. But I’d rather he dance to a tune I play for him. This random back-stabbing. Face-spitting. “I’mma hang you by your feet till your eyes see red” isn’t a phase I was expecting.

I want to be sitting somewhere in dar-es-salaam in the sweat filled heat. Sipping on coconut juice. Looking over the ocean and writing love letters to a lover in another time zone telling him of how he must come and see how my heart flutters every time the ocean makes waves and it sounds like his name. But I’m here instead. Looking for truth in a self-portrait I took in a happy time. Wondering how I got there. How I left that place. I’m listening to the waves of disappointment in my father’s voice playing over and over again in my head on top of the loud music I’ve been trying to drown myself in.

Picked up a mirror. I do not like what I see. Between yesterday morning and this morning I turned into a stranger I know with such ease. So I’m looking at a picture of myself instead. It’s what I want to be. Beautiful. But not today. Today I want feelings. I want emotions. I want anger. I want sadness. I want pain. Instead there is this perpetual emptiness. Almost as if all my sadness had sipped out of my flesh with my blood last night as I attempted to make room for apologies.

I want you to know one thing. This emptiness is not directed to you. It is my sincere apology when the words fail. I go there before I go to myself. I reside there before I return to emotions. It’s what I do best.

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