weekend

i lie on the floor, feeling the hardness underneath me. my mind goes blank, it doesn't. i feel waves of loneliness, fear, pain. my arms are stiff, talking to me. telling me: you've had enough. stop now. stop.

when i was younger i used to spend a lot of time thinking about dreams, about how you could live more than one life, about spirituality, about fate, about the possibility of other worlds, about connections made without effort, about finding one soul to match your own, about princes and horses, about being a hero, about changing, about you.

someone will tell me, i know, that i ask too much of things, that it is all so much more simple than i make it, that my arms will stop hurting, that i have been stupid, that i haven't learnt a thing, that it's never too late or too early, that all things...

i watched my pregnant friends, beautiful, heavy, strong. i listened to my friend who's in love. i talked to my dancing friend. i hope i can really be with them.

i'm in and out and myself and not myself anymore. i am strong and weak and vulnerable and hurtful.

i am alive, asleep, in a corner, nursing a headache, cursing my noisy head. hungry.