The big collapse will always be undoubtedly inevitable
August 15, 2013 § Leave a comment
That dog with all the fleas reluctant to bathe or get treatment, whining every night non stop in the corner, is almost eighty, in dog years. Sometimes she squirts her with medicine but she growls, flaring her miniature sharp tooth, hunching then lunging like a real lunatic while she stands there in mild disbelief, resenting she making it so damn difficult to save her. Like she needs this shit. So she lets her be, lets her keep that pain while some darker part of herself (she doesn’t like much) feels like the fucking bitch deserves it.
And maybe that makes her a monster.
A few feet away from that mean old dog, hiding in a little back room, the monster falls apart.
Months, and months, and months have passed and still she falls apart.
Still she gets that rumbling of truth through her chest,
the gyrating of terror round her guts and the trembles,
in her throat; suspicion/ghastly recollection
ripping through her again, and again, and it comes on fast and sticks around like that neighbor who just can’t take the hint.
Sometimes hours. Soakage and misery. Sometimes days.
They say it get’s easier/better/brighter, she says, but that’s really just something people say when they really don’t know what to say.