Until Her Mind Split, She Was Someone Else

Because when she told him she looked a little different, he said, "Is your mind different? Your heartt?"

Sentences broke down over telephone wires till there were little bits of words nestled in hair, stuck to lips.

Because a chimera is "an impossible or foolish fancy."

It wasn't just the broken words that lost meaning. Even whole words came to nothing, as she became L.I.E. and language displaced.

Because he said the city had too many building trees.

And all the little things went unsaid.

Because he said he'd give her kisses and mashed potatoes when she was mad.

Still, she wanted rawness. Fingers strumming a palm, lips against the perimeter of a world.

Because how can love need nothing in return? He confused her.

So she imagined how she'd see him and be so happy and all the varieties of sweet smiles they'd share. Only she couldn't. And she had gone for a walk in the freezing cold with her cough and her mom's cell. Squatting on a sidewalk near Patterson Park, crying into the phone. Still not sure what to do sitting on an icy rock at the edge of the pond. At the sink, the sun reflected off the blade of the knife, she thought of bits of teeth growing in a stomach.

Because there were broken words, lines, signals, thoughts.