writing because

by mickharris

writing because my other grandma is going into hospice, probably

writing because i am hot and one window is open and i am too lazy to get up and close it

writing because my asshole neighbor downstairs is consistently making noise and there is nowhere i can go in the house where i do not have to use headphones

writing because even if she’s playing her tv softly i’ve tuned my brain to hear it

writing because my cat is out somewhere peeing on my stuff, i’m sure, and i feel guilty about not spending enough time with him lately

writing because there is a crick in my neck and my calves are sore from walking earlier

writing because i hate work lately for no good reason

writing because communication is hard right now, especially with myself, and i feel like there’s no time or space to breathe into it and be patient with it because there is just noise noise noise everywhere

life is noisy

i have to deal with that

i don’t want to


i want a house somewhere away from noise past the noise that i make

i want a house right by the highway so that’s all i hear at night, lulling me to sleep

not the bitch downstairs

with her boring talk radio and tv she claims she doesn’t own

i want a space that is mine, not rented, where i can be and decorate and exist as myself, whole, in a home

instead of transitory, however long the stay might be

i want to burrow into it and know that it’s made just for me 

just my size

just to my taste


isn’t this what everyone wants?  a retreat.

a home.