Her Motorcycle (Part 2, page 2 of 3)


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Part 2

I can't, anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my house, inside of my head

Mom says, "Where did anxiety come from?"

Anxiety is the cousin visiting from out of town that depression felt obligated to invite to the party

Mom, I am the party, only I am a party I don't want to be at

Mom says, "Why don't you try going to actual parties, see your friends"

Sure I make plans, I make plans but I don't want to go

I make plans because I know I should want to go; I know sometimes I would have wanted to go

It's just not that fun having fun when you don't want to have fun, Mom

You see, Mom, each night Insomnia sweeps me up in his arms, dips me in the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light

Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company

Mom says, "Try counting sheep"

But my mind can only count reasons to stay awake

So I go for walks, but my stuttering kneecaps clank like silver spoons held in strong arms with loose wrists

They ring in my ears like clumsy church bells, reminding me I am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness that I cannot baptize myself in

Mom says, "Happy is a decision"

But my happy is as hollow as a pin pricked egg

My happy is a high fever that will break

Mom says, I am so good at making something out of nothing and then flat out asks me if I am afraid of dying

No Mom I am afraid of living

Mom I am lonely

I think I learned that when Dad left how to turn the anger into lonely the lonely into busy

So when I say I've been super busy lately I mean I've been falling asleep watching SportsCenter on the couch

To avoid confronting the empty side of my bed

But my depression always drags me back to my bed

Until my bones are the forgotten fossils of a skeleton sunken city

My mouth a boneyard of teeth broken from biting down on themselves

The hollow auditorium of my chest swoons with echoes of a heartbeat

But I am just a careless tourist here

I will never truly know everywhere I have been

Mom still doesn't understand

Mom, can't you see

That neither can I

“Wow, That Was-” I start to text back, but am quickly interrupted by the soft chirp of my phone as she starts to call.

“Hello.” She says calmly when I answer.

“Hi.” I say back “So that was-”

“Deep? Depressing? Eternally life changing?” She cuts me off.

“You could say that.”

“ It explains my deathwish…”

“Elaborate”

“When my health started to decline, before we knew why, My dad left. Him and my mother fought like cats and dogs. It was always over stupid thing too, like who should clean the house, who should cook dinner, what we should have for dinner, who should check the mail, who should go to the store, who should check on me… It was always ridiculous. About 2 months after he left, I was diagnosed. My whole life changed. My mother always seems stressed, the treatment is painful. Nothing seems to be going right. We had to move into a smaller house! I just- If I wasn’t here, If nobody ever had to deal with me, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

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