she's a jar

southern weather is a peculiar thing. december brought warmer weather than november. the very end of the year curled up and froze to death, its feeble hand still clutching my wrist. january came and i finally peeled away those fingers stiff with rigor mortis. the past half year was filled with false hope and unreliable plans.

reality seems to have balled up in my throat as i choke back weak moments that accompany the realization that it is no longer a sure thing that i won't be completely alone in ten years, or even a year from now. a few months ago i could freely cling and actually be clung to in return. i no longer have the comfort of someone for sure sticking around.

i guess i've already begun slipping back to that cold hard shell that cracked so long ago. sure, you can only go so long before that craving for something real, a genuine warm touch, begins gnawing under your skin. these things were so much easier when it was all i knew and i had no idea what it was like to be comfortably close with someone. all that's left is the hope that a person's memory can be erased and my eyes will harden again.

some days it seems like i will never rip myself from the bed and go about the day mechanically. it seems like i've laid there forever, skin cells adapting to the foreign material and attaching, but it's only been a few hours and i can't imagine attaching to anything again.

most days i forget to do a lot of things and before you know it it's been three days and i haven't eaten and the room spins uncomfortably. all i can focus on is the sinking feeling of the stomach shrinking back, and i feel so full i could vomit.