"April 15th"

my neighbor (downstairs) grabbed my arm and asked me,

have I mourned the life I wouldn’t live, the life I once had?

We had just discovered that I was battling an autoimmune disorder

and her fight was with Chrone’s. She, 30 years older but our bodies eerile the same

asked, if I heard her crying at night, and if I had any ‘normal’ friends

left. I replied, no, I hadn't heard her, and yes, I do still have friends

she dismissed this, they will all leave you at some point, honey, they all do.

After an awkward hug and pat on the back, I found myself on the stairs

up towards my apartment, fiddling with my phone hoping for the cheerful ring

of a message, call, anything.

"April 14th"

Am I cheating? This is totally an unfinished prose piece. Oh well.

She sat in the cubicle that indicated her independence. Drones of the machine surrounded her, caused by either the air conditioning or the upper management. She resisted the urge to take off the high heels that ached her feet. The silk blouse hid the red, inflamed parts of her body; she ignored the shrieks of her bones and purple flames of pain coursing through her head. The mechanical sounds of whispered laughter caught her ears at times, but she dared not look up. The cubicle in front of her held a woman in her early thirties, embittered by the wasted BA in sociology and ten years within these walls. She incessantly plays the local top forty-radio station. This woman would idly think if she added a dollar sign to her name and had slept with more men, she would have had more success in life. More likely however, she will just be asked to turn the music down on Fridays, after those around her spent too much time and money at happy hour the night before.

The guy in his late twenties who sat across the aisle considered himself a ‘man’s man’. Wrinkled khakis and faded red polo shirt was his daily uniform, casual days or not. He drank 20 ounces of mountain dew daily to hide the bags under his eyes, caused by the late nights of playing World of Warcraft. He used to go across the aisle and talk to her, until one day when they had this conversation:

"April 13th"

Is this funny only to me?

A fella asked me for the time of day

I clocked him

"April 12th"

spring

The sun

fell down

into the waiting arms

of the people

below.

"April 11th"

A superficial poem

2 pages of coupons from
the newspaper blow by
in the cool April wind
A'la American Beauty
the tragedy lies in the fact
that they will end up torn
and muddied rather than in
the warm embrace of a cute
little floral coupon book.

*It is American Beauty that has the plastic bag blowing in the wind, right?

"April 10th"

Why do I still live here?

Nothing is more unwelcome
than snowflakes
on a mid-April day

"April 9th"

Series: Winter 2010-11, or The Winter that almost took my life (not hyperbole)

3. I'm happy-a new Walgreens is opening near my house--
despite the fact that there are 2 others within 5 minutes from
my house. But I will save about 4 minutes anytime I need hypodermic
needles or a refill, and I'll be happy, isn't that the American Dream?