I fear it.
I embrace it.
I let it keep me up at night.
I poke at it with a stick.
I get skeeved when I have to
touch it and pull out an
old pair of pajamas to
wrap up my rat
and bury
him.
I abhor it.
I adore it. I really
don’t adore it I just
liked the way it
rhymed.
I hang doll
heads from my
ceiling fan a
shrunken skull from
my rearview
window.
I want it to go away.
I make it come
for bugs.
I let it sit there on
the porch I
shoo it with
a swatter.
I try to tell myself it is
the ultimate spiritual
experience and there’s no
way to get out of it yet I
still
freak out to think
I may one day
not be me. I
draw
cute little
skeletons
on tricycles.
–Ryn Gargulinski, 05.01.13
