|I how to disappear completely I|
"My Home"
by: michael g.
It’s about 22 degrees Fahrenheit. I’m wearing a red and black plaid flannel shirt, with some old jeans. My head is warmed only by the hair I could never afford to trim. I don’t have the energy to stand. It’s too cold to talk to Joseph across the street. I’m lying on the ground, staring at the pieces of bubble gum blackened by the soles of shoes, and the little pieces of glitter embedded into the pavement. I never understood the purpose of that glitter. It looks beautiful during sunset though. Never mind. I’m thinking too much. Hypothermia might be setting in.
Some kid’s Nike Air Max Threes just missed my head. There goes a pair of Adidas Shell Toes. Some skater kid probably, I don’t have the energy to look up. There’s some 8 year old girl’s LA Lights. Size 3. Following closely behind are a series of shiny black dress shoes. Morning rush hour must be starting, and BART must’ve just arrived. Black and brown briefcases worth more than my entire can collection combined pass over my head. Some woman’s dark green high heels clack by, barely missing my fingers. Do they not see me, or do they not want to see me?
This constant pain in my stomach is beginning to overwhelm me. Right now, I want food more than I want to be able to speak. I always thought my father was exaggerating when he told me I would amount to nothing. I thought he was just mad and wanted to get his point across. Now, look at me. I’m homeless on the streets of San Francisco. I’m on the verge of death.
Hypothermia is definitely setting in. I can’t feel my legs. I can’t even do anything about these kids stealing the change from my plastic cup.
I’m about to die. I give myself about two more minutes before my body locks up and my heart stops beating. It’s okay. I had a friend who could talk to spirits. She said our bodies are really nothing, and our souls carry on to live forever. She told me that after our souls escape, you‘ll feel more alive than ever before. I think it's time for me to be freed from the Earth. And I’m looking forward to the privilege of death.
I’m touching the sky. I feel alive.
back to writing
©2001 mg
