ghost

it’s wednesday and today i feel like a ghost. that nothing i touch is really moving though i’ve managed to feed the dogs and drink some water. it doesn’t feel like me, this hand is not my hand lifting the glass to my face, not my mouth swishing around mouthwash, not these feet standing on cold tile.

it is not my parents calling at 4AM and i stare at the buzzing phone and decide not to answer. i spoke to them yesterday. i called the landline and when they didn’t pick up i facetimed because i know one of them would be playing slot machine games on the ipad. i didn’t answer because they can’t remember the actual numbers of my phone number anymore and they’re calling it because they don’t know who called their landline and they don’t remember time zones and how they work, even if they knew where 415 is, even if they knew it was me.

but i’m not me today. this isn’t my sore body that lifted weights and did some aerobic moves dug up from the bottom of the brain of a chubby 12 year old doing vhs tape jane fonda exercises with middle aged aunts in the living room. not me who remembered some yoga, who cursed the fact that there are no window treatments in the house, not me who has been living with a clear view to the outside world, forgetting that everyone can also see clearly in.