Reposted by Up the Staircase Quarterly
Revisiting this prose poem 'Childhood' which was published in Issue 71 of @upthestaircase.bsky.social last November.
Thank you again @aprilmbratten.bsky.social and all readers that bring much light to our words ✨️
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![eating taco bell in the middle of a burger king drive thru just to feel something
I’m going to dive bars; collecting bathroom stall numbers,
starting to not be joking when I tell you I’m going to start calling.
I admit I’m bitter, wanting to skip the awkward “will you be my murder” part
and go right to the couch, take out, tv flashing 90’s nostalgia.
but, the only burrito here in months has been me; blanket wrapped,
soggy in the middle. I’ve never been good at living, anxious
on my best days, agoraphobic on my worst, but I could be tempted
by cheese to unfurl—Sara says she’s never been hung over enough
to eat taco bell and I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s drunk food,
not hangover food, because in this case I too am unqualified,
sober for all the wrong reasons. terrified of what it’d feel like
to let the rubber bands under my skin snap. I stick to little rebellions,
dipping chicken nuggets in fire sauce. every bad idea another
in a series of intrusive thoughts. and this is no different. you see
I’m not here for a good time, a long time, for the one that got away,
long lost love — hello, no you don’t know me,
but for an hour or two on a tuesday night I loved you forever,
just thought you ought to know. tonight I’m grateful
I’ll never wake up to another’s body, and this too is love—
I love the idea of you so much I never want to startle awake to you,
open eyed and blue. in every situation let there [still] be breath.](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:h5tcc5htlyhcnmp3guxcneid/bafkreid5tmlnypjza26vsnhsrbeybfffkt37id7s556w7oaw5ecrp5b2ui)
