2002-08-12 || 11:10 p.m.

|| i am negative space ||

in the past week i have visited two different rooms in which i make the startling discovery that i have been removed from them. in two different rooms, residing in two different states, there are faint dotted outlines and nail holes of where i used to be, preserved in great part by the unwitting stubborn relationship of dust and wallpaper. framed pictures of hearts (aorta. left ventricle. right ventricle. the tiny ingrown spot where love gets caught.). blocks of painted wood bearing my name on the underside. photographs. love letters. anniversary presents. photobooth strips.

in two different rooms i have been tucked away into bathroom drawers. file cabinets. dark corners of closets.

in two different rooms the realization came as a sudden sharp intake of breath, a moment of unbearable clarity, like how i imagine one would feel to come to the startling realization she is a ghost, and has been for some time.

previous || next || random

guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land

Site Meter