Decomposition

A body says, “Hello.” Another body does not reply. A body says, “Hello.” Again. Another body does not reply. A body walks into a bad joke. A body feels like a bad joke. A body tries to tell a bad joke to another body and another body walks away. A body has breakfast alone. A body skips lunch alone. A body has coffee alone. A body has dinner alone. A body says, “Loneliness is not the unyielding force but the soft buoyancy of humid air that no one else can see.” A body says, “Loneliness is not the story locked in the past but the inability to explain what happened.” Or the inability to find someone who will listen. A body says, “Loneliness is trying as hard as you can but still failing because (insert your beliefs about failing here).” A body sees. A body tastes. A body touches. A body feels the memories a body doesn’t want to feel. A body blocks them out. A body smothers them with a crashing wave. A body pounds them into the ground and refuses to let them breathe even for one second. A body can’t let them breathe for even a second. A body hears a body’s fist connect with what a body cannot kill. A body smells a body’s blood. A body wonders how a body got hurt when a body was supposed to be inflicting all the hurt, all the punishment.

*

Photo by Laura Briedis on Unsplash

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jessicahalseywrites

Jessica Halsey lives in Arkansas and is earning a degree in Laboratory Science while she writes many strange poems and books about werewolves and faeries. She loves birdwatching and performing venipuncture. Her spark bird is the Rose-Breasted Grosbeak and her house words are, “Is there blood on the floor?”

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