Aliens
Just fill in the blanks. Like you did ten years ago. Where you here, ten years ago? Were you still here? It would make reading between the lines so much easier, you know? I am so tired of explaining myself. Read me. Get me. But do not ask me any more questions.
I’m so tired of doctors asking if I do all my preventives. I never was one for preventives. I cannot think, plan, see one single day ahead. Crash landings is what I am good at. Best in pilot class; just never able to find the damn tarmac.
Sometimes I wish my family was made from a different dark matter. There are so many letters in the alphabet. Why focus on C?
It’s her generation, my doctor says, when I ask her if others feel the same. Hers is a generation that was never able to live to the full. It’s simply the war. War is always like that. It kills more than lives. And those that survive eat their children.
But I’m a woman, I say. I’m not a child anymore. Why does it still hurt so much?
She sighs. You never were a child, she says. You are only now beginning to grow up and apart.
