Sometimes, aware & fighting

by Marisa Siegel

I fight, when I realize what’s happening. But often it takes infinitely long to become aware.

If it feels like I’m really screaming. Or why I’m in a house that doesn’t exist. Why I’m not angry, or why I’m so angry. Maybe a window is barely cracked open but I can hear the cat whine. And cats don’t even exist, perhaps. Went extinct in early September.

Often it has to be a few things together: I’m screaming at a man I never have to see again and I’m running down stairs and I’m shattering windows that I’ve already shattered and the clock is fuzzy and I can’t get my phone to work. I can’t remember the phone number of the person who will save me.

You feel your mind push back. Don’t scream; you’ll wake the nurse next door. Wait, what nurse next door? You do know the phone number. You can see each digit, you are whispering them and then you realize the window is already shattered and that you are safe and no one saved you. The phone starts to disappear.

My eyes opened and I make out pillow, window. The sound of air conditioning. I grab my phone, my mother talks me awake. I make lemon ginger tea, letting the tea bag steep too long on purpose. The sharp ginger on my tongue.

I am infinitely aware and I am sometimes fighting.

Advertisements