Talk to me abut care giving and I will tell you that it eats you up from the inside out. Relentless, it never ends and it never lets you forget
it. Like a kind of negative being in love—thinking about the person you are
taking care of is the default position for your soul. You know how when the
electricity goes off all the clocks go to 12 o’clock. Well all the clocks of me
now reset at Anna and Yash. I wake up in the morning and I listen for them in
the house. Then I go and check on them it’s 5am so I try to go back to bed. But
I can’t sleep because I am running the things to do for each, doctor appointment,
new prescription to drop off and later pick up.
How about talking to me about love
Cause I don‘t know how to talk about it anymore. This is where love
has brought me, but I am not feeling it
as love. It doesn’t sound like love and it does not act like love, it is indifferent and oblivious, and takes it
all for granted.
Don’t talk to me about love because I know now where that leads.
It feels like a way of getting to use people and say this is what you should do
if you really love me. Take care of me from dawn to dawn and then get up and do
it again.
Talk to me about burn out because I fear that is where I am
going with this. Finally one tires of talking and I just want to sleep and see what dreams
produce or what comforts can be extracted from oblivion.
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