B90
Public Record
Excerpt from novel: with Abandon

i left and i’m lonely

it’s what i’d wanted
what i’d begged Her for
and now i have it and i miss Her
like She knew that i would.

She is happy,
i think,
with a new Lover,
and i imagine they tumble through bedsheets
like kids down a hill.

i want to call Her
to tell Her that i was wrong,
that i’m willing to admit it
and start anew —
strengthened by the resolve of Our separatedness.
i wonder how She’d react.
i wonder what it’d do to Her lover.
i wonder where i stand in Her hierarchy of needs.
i’ve made my bed and i’m restless in it.

i’m awash.
wholly run-through.
waterlogged and sogged.
We died when i killed it;
it was what i’d wanted.
just as i repeated to myself then, though:
getting back what you’ve lost
doesn’t mean
getting back what you were
when you lost it.

the heavy void of the all-time rests on my sunken chest;
i’m not worried of dying alone — i’ve always anticipated it.
but for a moment that was shed of me,
with Her i was allowed to think
maybe not?
but lying to oneself is always an easy thing to do.

perhaps some future lie will come about
and eternal hopefulness will come sup with me once more.
but to think that anyone but Her
could find and know me in spite of myself
sounds like
the punchline to an inside joke with my self.

i’m not broken. i am merely in pieces;
many lost. many discarded. many forcibly ejected.
i’m scattered across this meridian;
a thousand useless bits,
unfit for anyone i might care to love

and too empty to be so picky.

Frida Bilson