Tuesday

The note left by the landlord said not to forget about her on the 25^th.

The rent is late but I can’t forget my first apartment.

The sanctuary I created to combat the stillness, the fear of being alone.

It’s only Tuesday and I can’t forget why I chose to wake from the slumber of happily ever after.

I remember the corner of Priest and Elliot where the

River rock decorates the sewage drain.

I remember piecing together broken fragments, like glass,

As my heart let loose its final grip on the past.

I remember watching the parts of my dream fade as she wiped her nose

With an old, worn, yellow bandana.

I remember reading books stacked to the ceiling searching for truth

To find it always remained locked in a box, I lost the attic.

I remember pacing through fresh smelling carpets and unmarked walls.

Screaming at the void; hoping for an answer back to this riddle called existence.

I remember, dreaming of Cinderella at twenty-six years old

Only to find she never left the confines of her servitude at thirty-one.

I remember the spot beneath the pine tree

Just two feet from the river rock on the corner of Priest and Elliot.

I remembered there are three types of death; one for the body,

One for the soul and one for the heart and I chose.

I remember, rocking, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees.

Feeling my heart shudder its last beat, I waited.

Its only Tuesday and I remember,

The rent is due and I am still here.