Secrets For the Horizontal
By xTx
I would like to lie down on the hot pavement but everyone (he) will not approve. I just like the feeling of the sun on my back and my front simultaneously. It makes me feel like I’m bread in a toaster. I am bread in a toaster. I would like to be, anyway, but I will not because if I lie down on the hot pavement everyone (he) will not approve.
I have last night’s hair and last night’s pajamas on and this morning’s hangover. I want to still be drunk and not care and just lie on the hot pavement anyway. Like last night when he said WE’RE LEAVING NOW in my dad’s voice but when I stumbled to the car, it was locked and he didn’t come and he didn’t come so I lay down on the pavement and it was so warm on my back. An enormous secret! I thought. A secret that nobody but a drunk like me will ever know because they choose to only walk on the pavement with their shoes and never lie on the pavement with their backs like I am. The pavement has entrusted me with its secret. Its secret is: I AM STILL WARM FROM THE DAY… Its warmth, its secret, it shares with only me.
Just me! For all of this pavement! So special. I close my eyes to the street lamps and feel my back so warm. A car goes by, I’m hidden; another secret. I hear the party, up high and away like it’s at God’s house, like I’m not invited.
When he finally comes he thinks I am asleep or passed out maybe but I was neither. Still mad or mad again maybe, he kicks me in my thigh. I cry because he kicked me, yes, but I also cry because of how I know he sees me and I cry because I am drunk but I mostly cry because he has pulled me off of the warm pavement. I am mostly crying about leaving the warm pavement as he pushes me into the backseat of the car like a criminal. I do not even cry about hitting my head on the door. I am only crying about the pavement, it’s enveloping arms, how it trusted only me to share its secret with – ONLY ME - and then I was torn away from it – premature. No goodbyes. I cry. Drunk. Belittled. Lonely.
And now, I am sober (hungover) and caring what they (he) will think of me if I lie down on the hot pavement. I know they (he) will frown upon (enrage) me lying down on the hot pavement because they (he) found me lying on the pavement passed out (waiting) and they (he) got upset (enraged) and woke me (kicked) and helped me up (yanked) and put me into the car (thrown) and drove me home from the party and when they (he) sees me lying on the hot pavement it will be curtains for me but I think I will do it later because, although, a hot pavement has no daytime secrets, it will remember the one it told me in the night, and it knows that I am good and it knows that I was not passed out and it knows that I am trustworthy and it knows I am not strange and it knows I only want to be a piece of bread cooked on both sides keeping secrets because I am trusted I am loved I am cared about by inanimate objects.
- - -
xTx has been published in places like Pank, decomP, Dogzplot, elimae and >Kill Author. Her ebook, "Nobody Trusts a Black Magician" is available from nonpress. She says nothing at www.notimetosayit.com.
By xTx
I would like to lie down on the hot pavement but everyone (he) will not approve. I just like the feeling of the sun on my back and my front simultaneously. It makes me feel like I’m bread in a toaster. I am bread in a toaster. I would like to be, anyway, but I will not because if I lie down on the hot pavement everyone (he) will not approve.
I have last night’s hair and last night’s pajamas on and this morning’s hangover. I want to still be drunk and not care and just lie on the hot pavement anyway. Like last night when he said WE’RE LEAVING NOW in my dad’s voice but when I stumbled to the car, it was locked and he didn’t come and he didn’t come so I lay down on the pavement and it was so warm on my back. An enormous secret! I thought. A secret that nobody but a drunk like me will ever know because they choose to only walk on the pavement with their shoes and never lie on the pavement with their backs like I am. The pavement has entrusted me with its secret. Its secret is: I AM STILL WARM FROM THE DAY… Its warmth, its secret, it shares with only me.
Just me! For all of this pavement! So special. I close my eyes to the street lamps and feel my back so warm. A car goes by, I’m hidden; another secret. I hear the party, up high and away like it’s at God’s house, like I’m not invited.
When he finally comes he thinks I am asleep or passed out maybe but I was neither. Still mad or mad again maybe, he kicks me in my thigh. I cry because he kicked me, yes, but I also cry because of how I know he sees me and I cry because I am drunk but I mostly cry because he has pulled me off of the warm pavement. I am mostly crying about leaving the warm pavement as he pushes me into the backseat of the car like a criminal. I do not even cry about hitting my head on the door. I am only crying about the pavement, it’s enveloping arms, how it trusted only me to share its secret with – ONLY ME - and then I was torn away from it – premature. No goodbyes. I cry. Drunk. Belittled. Lonely.
And now, I am sober (hungover) and caring what they (he) will think of me if I lie down on the hot pavement. I know they (he) will frown upon (enrage) me lying down on the hot pavement because they (he) found me lying on the pavement passed out (waiting) and they (he) got upset (enraged) and woke me (kicked) and helped me up (yanked) and put me into the car (thrown) and drove me home from the party and when they (he) sees me lying on the hot pavement it will be curtains for me but I think I will do it later because, although, a hot pavement has no daytime secrets, it will remember the one it told me in the night, and it knows that I am good and it knows that I was not passed out and it knows that I am trustworthy and it knows I am not strange and it knows I only want to be a piece of bread cooked on both sides keeping secrets because I am trusted I am loved I am cared about by inanimate objects.
- - -
xTx has been published in places like Pank, decomP, Dogzplot, elimae and >Kill Author. Her ebook, "Nobody Trusts a Black Magician" is available from nonpress. She says nothing at www.notimetosayit.com.
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