bring diamonds and rust

i think pms is starting to get the better of me.
it's a good thing my father is actually going to work tomorrow
(for the first time in four and a half months)
because if i woke up and the first thing i heard was
chels, i need you
to paint the basement floor stain the baseboards sort through this big bucket of mixed up nuts and bolts to find exactly twelve three quarter inch washers and use them to screw the new guttering together etcetera etcetera
i would just lose my shit.
one of us would die and it would probably be me
because his seemingly innocuous request would result in a paroxysm of psychosis
so acute i would eat the bristles off the only three brushes
that have been soaking in paint thinner for the last three days
just to get out of the jobs.
however, since none of that is going to happen, tonight i am being a good girl
and sedating myself.
mary jane
take my word
why are you so sad? selected poems of david w. mcfadden

i am being quiet.
there is way too much noise lately
in this house
this heart

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