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2 poems by colby mcadams

6/12/2016

 

glow in the dark

​I vomited for three days straight until it was just blood filling the toilet & I am so angry
with myself I want to cry I want to dissipate into the streetlight just like all the other sad
people who want to cry but can’t because of drugs and the hangover is so stale that my
mouth feels like two chalkboard erasers being banged together when I talk it is pure
dust and I want to disappear, I think I already said that, anyways I don’t disappear
& I sit in front of one of my many mirrors and watch myself because grief is
so pretty
 
to me and I’m afraid that this will be the hangover I can’t outrun and I will wear it
like a stain like the imprints of chalk eraser on the brick wall of the school & nothing
will taste as bad as water tastes to me right now except last night Sam’s friend asked
me for my number & isn’t it funny how unclaimed it made me feel so I gave him
my number because I don’t have a good enough reason not to &
it’s not that I want to feel
 
claimed just tethered as the reality TV star having a breakdown at couple’s therapy
like give me something bigger than myself so I can ruin it
I am sliding slowly
down the couch but slow as a continental drift and I don’t realize it is happening until
I am the floor & honestly that applies to a lot of my life right now and it is Sunday night
but I probably won’t fully wake up until Wednesday and one day I will finally wake up dead but until then
my neighbor is cooking dinner through the wall and most nights we cook dinner
at the same time and I slice zucchini while he pops open a jar of what sounds like sauce and
when it goes quiet on the other side of the wall I assume he is sitting alone at his kitchen table eating silently so I do the same thing and maybe we will always be mirroring each other on opposites sides of a thin wall for the rest of our lives or at least our leases & is that love? because I have no clue what love is
which creates a sadness in me so heavy I am excited it will kill me because I know
 
how loneliness because I know how loneliness because I know how loneliness is
 
as hungry as the moon behind a cloud is wanting to be seen
so I hope that the man through the wall is capable of loving visibly and I hope he makes
someone feel claimed and illuminated & if he can do that for me I will stop
fantasizing about disappearing into a streetlight because planes are so heavy but
somehow they still manage to fly & that makes me more hopeful even
when sleep tastes bad to me and I lie still at 3:37 a.m. until I hear
his mattress groan so I know he is awake too blinking in the darkness
looking for something when there isn’t anything to see

half an obituary

​I will be here not wanting
much more than the view
of Billy’s arm reaching across
the hatchback to silence his phone.
 
Later, the woman is found dead
in the other room, well
technically Rocky Neck Park,
I’ll never know how without
 
an online subscription to The Day
though when I say I imagine her
walking in to the sea, my mother
reminds me Rocky Neck is all forest
 
as if I haven’t noticed
they are being gentle around me
again. 
​✱✱✱
Picture
Colby McAdams is a graduate of the University of Connecticut with a degree in English. Some of her recent work has been featured in Potluck Mag, The Rusty Toque, and The Long River Review. Her hobbies include dominating the aux cord at parties and inviting her demons to dinner with a bottle of wine. You can also find her on twitter @Coco_erin.
    Picture

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