No Segue

One day, I’ll pour my heart out to you.
I’ll mention how Radiohead’s “No Surprises”
Goes through my head daily this year,
How Thom Yorke keeps singing in the music video
Even as the water slowly rises and covers his face—
How that’s how it feels sometimes—
How it’s exhausting to try to self-optimize constantly
In our late-stage capitalist unreality
How I’ve been contemplating my obsolescence,
How you gave me this perpetually furrowed brow,
How I’ve become a ghost in my own life,
Haunting my obligations.
How I can’t hear my own thoughts anymore—
How hard it is to hold on to what feels like the truth,
How looking for comfort from those who hurt you
Is like holding your burnt flesh to a bonfire.
How cold I am visiting northern WI today,
My body already forgetting
The long winter that ended just weeks ago
How sometimes, in summer,
I have to pretend it’s winter
Close the blinds, make homemade soup,
Wrap up in blankets, stay in bed,
Darken the room, hide from everyone,
Create the long nights.
How dusty, mournful chords of music
Hang in the corners of my bedroom like wispy cobwebs and
How I’ve drifted, distant, for so long
The tides are pulling me to the other side of this ocean:
How I fear that there’s no return now,
How some of us long for something simple
Badly enough to sail right off the map.
How despite all this and so much more,
And in spite of the fact
That we promised not to fall in love
You proceeded to make me love you anyway—
A grand production we willingly co-directed,
And cast each other as co-stars,
For which I admittedly
Wrote the screenplay.