Just Rambling...

There's a sink full of dishes.
And I can't find the dish soap.
Look in it's usual spot, then under the sink, then in the bathroom, the laundry room & then do it all over again.
I break down into private tears... I want to do the dishes.
I gotta do something.
Hands pressed against the brick island, hips squared, I kick out into the air. Kicking up and out at the face that doesn't exist. Kicking again & again, conscious to keep the knee back, the toes pointed, I kick as fast as I can. 300 times.
Pour myself a cup of tea and do it again on the other side.
Smoke a cigarette.
My 9' ceilings allow for a 7' high archway.
I stand, stradling the archway...one foot on tile & one on hardwood & reach up grasping the doorframe with my bony little fingers.
I pull myself up ... then curl my knees in towards my chest and then let them down to hang. My back pops. And then, I do it again & again & again.
My fingers have dents that last longer than my next cigarrette.
So I smoke another one, contemplating 'what to do.'
I lay on the tile. It's cool and hard...it's reminds me of how bony I am.
Smokie and Marbelene come to snuggle, slapping me with their tongues. Vilulah nudges in and rests her head on me. Ander plows through wanting to join the dogpile & Brodie starts to howl. I have sacrificed myself to the dogs.
Pulling myself up, I plop some Korn into the stereo.
I daydream of a man I knew who called himself Freedom.
And then I give the air 300 more kicks.
Waking up in the morning after 4 hrs sleep, my muscles are sore and I stumble to the phone.
I call my most missed soul-mate... 'Do you mind....?'
I stretch, reaching for the bellies of unseen stars.
And jump on the computer & order some brown and some black Henna.
Gonna have a Henna Tatto party.
I just gotta do something.