First off, let me preface this little number by saying I wrote most of it on a barf bag while on an airplane Sunday night on my way back to Georgia. I couldn't unbuckle my seat-belt because the buckle lights were on (for those of you unawares, I'm generally a serious rule follower) and it was the only thing within reach. I'm only saying because I thought it was funny... and funnier since I have to stare at a barf-bag the whole time I'm typing this. But I only know what it means as much as you will...
Sometimes I just want them all to shut up, you know? Just shut the fuck up… It’s all just noise, you know? I don’t care where you got your shoes or who David started screwing. I don’t care, just leave me alone. I sit here every morning pretending to finish trig homework but you know, I drew fifteen elephants upside down and carved the alphabet on each one, that’s what I’ve been doing. Don’t you see? I see purple dragons melting into my walls before I fall asleep every night, their oil-stain scales layering their skin like sheet after sheet of the wall paper they live on, and I want to touch them but I can’t because I come here every morning and it’s so noisy and my head is a trashcan like your stomach… I wonder if this is what babies dream about in the fetus… those lights when you close your eyes, the dragons, purple and that lightning shade of yellow the one that hurts to think about, patterns in black and is it scarier when it means nothing to them or me? I have these dreams, you know, when I take a lot of asprin before a nap and the purple dragons turn into cotton ball clouds with cartoon faces and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Entry 2:
She shook her head and told Him to hush, another plague won’t do nobody
no good. They don’t know no better than You did and You know it. And He said,
I was wine drunk and fell asleep watching The Office. He’s down there in his
Sunday hat telling people I said they shouldn’t drink wine. I never told nobody
not to drink wine. I never told no one they shouldn’t get naked. I never asked them
for nothing more than some conversation and a thank-you card. I’m putting the House up
for sale; I don’t wanna live here no more. I just wanted them to like Me, Momma,
just like anyone else. You wanted me to talk, but they won't listen. Nobody ever asks if I’m okay...
Remember when our boy died, Momma? Remember when our boy died and they hung his picture all over My House? Did it to hurt me, make me feel guilty… I know it’s all my fault, Momma, but it don’t make no difference now, Momma.
You know them damned fools put “wholehearted” in the glossary? No more, here on
out. They want Me to stay away but they keep throwing balls in the yard, Momma, right
over the fence like I built it over night but Momma, it took seven days, you saw it go up.
You wanna know what? In the beginning was the Word and the Word was
a mess. Spelled wrong and backward in sideways cursive and too many silent letters...
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