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Outside. Through the window. Get my ass up and out. I spend my days like this. How many days? The sweats stopped. I’m not shaking today. I can’t apologize for what’s already broken.
Maybe it’s me. The waves, the crashing waves… The sea has passed. The mess cleaned up. Somehow. I wonder where he is. Did he drive away? Drive him away? Me. I don’t blame.
I was awful. I am awful. He left me. I deserved it. Unlovable me. Then he came back. Damn him. This city supposed to be a fresh start. Philly was too small. Simply too Philly.
Ready to take this city by storm. Chestnuts in Central Park. Midnight at the Ritz. Guys and Dolls. Who ever conquered New York? There’s a story here somewhere but it’s lost in a cloud.
I’m an artist too. He doesn’t believe me. Or he believes me and doesn’t care. Lonely lonely muse. Unlovable vessel. I like to paint pictures. I’m as good as he is. I, I, I, I sound crazy.
I like my drugs too. He’s out there hustling pictures to the hoity toity art fuckers. I’m frozen staring out the window at the warehouse roofs wondering when my time. When I get clean.
The sky is blue and I can’t move. Paralyzed fear he’s gone for good. Off this bed, out this coffin. No dope, no crutch, no self-inflected wounds. Hope he’s gone for good.
Jesus is a bad metaphor. I don’t need salvation. Across the horizon, a place to start anew. New Jersey? Suspicious. I need, I need, I need… This can be my city too. New York is my oyster –
Whatever that means. I can paint. I know my way around a color wheel. Wavelength, relationships, odd combinations. All I got to do is slip on my shoes and walk out that door.
He should be coming back soon. I can wait. Maybe he’s scored. Close my eyes, let the dream take hold. Sailing, floating over waves that crash land upon my unrequited soul.
I can’t wait. Flying over the roofs of Manhattan like Chagall’s lovers, like Peter Pan drifting through skyscraper haze. Comfortable, self-possessed., lighter than air. If only… if only…
I can get off this bed, put on my overcoat. Into a new life. Free of necessity. Free of this curse that’s really my savior. The city a mirage to melt into if only I move. I think I can.
Out the door. Down the steps. Out of the picture. Into my own life. The star of my very own film. A shit reality show. Maybe. I’m not a picture. A picture maker. He has to know that.
Why does he keep me? Hope he brings back a treat. Stop looking through the glass damn it! Bridge splash. Through my window. Crisis of confidence. Terminal crisis. Confidence man.
He’s not keeping me here. I’m doing this to myself. Icarus wings. There is a way out. The other side of this deception. The beckoning stars. Sirius. The window. I can fly…