There's a pigeon outside my window staring me dead in the eyes. I wonder if that's a bad omen in some culture, with its dragon eyes barbing into my being. I wait for it to take flight or poke my eyes out. Fly away baldy, take my bleeding-heart with you, bring it as a telegram to the partridge doves. My heart flutters like the batting of this birds wings, I've memorized the pulse of my mended heart, performed open heart surgery on myself, the soft sweetness of the oxheart you devoured in your wake. I trace my love line, ink on my palms. Love is a red pen, splashing ink like chicken's blood across life and light. I wrapped my soul in gauze, applied first aid to the rifts, licked up my own bleeding, and placed my smudged palm to my breast and the flinty collapse beating under my ribcage.
Everyone's had their share of shitty boyfriends, unfaithful prince charmings clasping at our broken hearts, the louts from afar that wreck and split us open like lobsters, the aliases smothering us in zero infinity. The viscera of a bad boyfriend can ruin or soothe you, depending on the heartbreak. Can you forgive the unresponsive?
I spend the day listening to a lecturer speak, say words in a rush of scholarship wildlife arcs. Putting students through a dance of financial aid and pipe bulletins. Studied donations and survey courses helping me along my uncertainty. I grind for rhetorical exams, accredit my studies, and I'm bound to reapply. Remember the exhibition of education while you're in each seminar. Should I flunk out of residential college? I'm a dropout whether I stay or leave.
I'm a goddaughter, which I never remember, but I am. I wonder what the phobia is of losing one's parents. The past would be the other side of my memories, and I'd have to come to my aunt to find the right way to live my life. What's the right thing to do? Why do I love the smell of rain and old books? Why do I feel the urge to kiss everyone that smiles in a way I adore? When it's the right time, I think I'll feel it deep in the pit of me. I'll be a godchild rich with questions and places to be, so let me interview you, the ones I love, just a little bit.