you wanna know

the way the wind blows?

(Scribbled sloppily on a bedroom wall-

sharpie, black and paint, lavender.

Girl's bedroom. A watercolor painting

of a butterfly over a messy bed.

Abandoned.)

It's been the sort of thing you know is coming

like when you know you're losing the girl

you know your tire just blew out

you know the world is coming to a halt.

If you're reading this, I apologize--

I'm not too punctual

I'm not too bright,

and I don't have any paper

or any clue and

I--

(i'm not going to make it)

You know, the last words he said to me?

'Unconditional love is an awful cute idea.

A pretty way to sell a card,

or a soul

or to buy a hymen.

When you dig in it's teeth, though?

Truth is, it's about as real as Santa Clause

(bout as real as the easter bunny, if you want to

stretch that far)

It's a real nice sentiment and all,

but let me set you straight, kid-

All love is conditional.'

I was kind of stuck in my own head,

trying to wrap grey matter around those words,

and the stale tobacco on his fingers,

and the yellow on his teeth when

something changed. It all changed.

We were all changed.

Lock down mode, crisis arrived. 

Lucky for me, more like crisis averted.

I was holed up in a cocoon on my bed and didn't

get the flu rolling around and crawling into 

people's skin and bones and minds.

I didn't get what so many people sank

into, avoided the eye-rolling-and-drooling-

and-whimpering-and-stomach-fire-thing

that was enveloping more people than not.

(this is day one.)

Survival mode hasn't kicked in yet,

haven't felt my adrenaline flow,

still stuck more in a state of shock than

a state of understanding.

Sirens like to blare, out of tune,

outside. There is no hope.

I haven't quite accepted that, yet,

either. I don't know how many people

are gone. I saw the news before it all turned

into static and white lines and blue screens.

It is day one, and I am writing this to you.

Day negative one, I spent worrying about a man

who didn't love me. 

Day two, I get to see the damage that has been done.

Now is when we realize all the things we didn't know--

(how to get the flour to make the dough)

And I have a secret, if you can keep it.

(there is no way to survive)