dodging houses falling from the sky

I keep forgetting about the transience of life.
Every time I go home, I am reminded. 
And it isn’t subtle--
Whether for the good or for the bad,
The changes are earth shattering.
I don’t know why I still get surprised each time the plot thickens, 
Every time I regain my footing
My foundations are quaked more violently than in the previous tremors. 
And it isn’t necessarily getting as old as it is exhausting. 
But still, we march forward bravely
Because stopping isn’t an option,
And as hard as we try to come to terms with each situation—
Make the best of it, 
Consolidate, 
Actively engage in it,
Secretly hoping, that maybe this time 
We can somehow magically sway the results in our favor—
In our hearts, we know
That no amount of manipulation 
Can prevent the world from turning 
No amount of nit picking 
Can prevent the sky from falling 
And no amount of manhandling 
Can prevent a house in Kansas from being uprooted in a tornado
And crashing down on you
Again.
And again.

It’s hard to look up when you know a house will fall on you
(And that then, someone will steal your ruby slippers.
And your toes are bleeding because the slippers didn’t fit
And they weren’t even your slippers in the first place,
And then you remember you haven’t cut your toenails in a while
And it’s all the more mortifying)
It’s hard to do a lot of things: 

1. Like listen to unsettling
And absolutely terrifying
Seven minute long 
Crystal meth induced voicemails from your addicted friend 
Without immediately screaming, 
Locking every door and window, 
Drawing the shades
And praying to god
She forgot how to navigate to your house. 

2. Or cope with the fact that
A dear friend was diagnosed with a terminal illness
And only has a handful of years to live. 





Maybe there is something to be said about spring-cleaning, 
It never made sense to me before, but now I’m beginning to understand, 
We sweep, we dust, we wash
Pile and arrange,
Rearrange
Move furniture;
We clean because it’s one of the only things in life we can control. 
Even though it doesn’t erase any of the history that unraveled in a particular room, 
Or change the circumstances unpooling outside of the home, 
In that brief moment, 
We play god, 
We are in control
Until the next house falls on your head.

And still, 
We clean the wreckage
And life goes on:

Addie and I sat out on her front porch for the first time since last summer, 
It was beautiful, 
The trees were budding, 
Plants were sprouting from the ground
The sky was gray,
The wind was roaring, 
A storm was brewing 
The meth-heads were on the loose, 
But we were content
For we were back on the porch
Sitting on warm wicker thrones
Armed with cigarettes, coffee and gossip
Ready to take on the world. 

Sunday, I saw Dylan
And we feasted on English muffins, dusted in cinnamon
And sipped ginger ale, 
And it was delicious, 
We also enjoyed the weather,
Traded stories, compared notes, caught up
Her lover Michael came over
And I watched them be in love
And it was beautiful
And I craved what they have

I saw Alia and Dana, 
Addie came over
And I brought painkillers, 
So we all took them and floated about, 
And it was lovely.
When I had to go, everyone decided they needed things from the gas station, 
We emerged from the apartment, 
Cackling and squinting and wobbling.
We decided that the neighbors probably thought we were crack heads. 
And that that was perfectly fine. 

Moments like these make life worth living.
Despite the heartache*














*(I feel for you,
Things will get better, 
I promise)