I discovered tonight
Choking on air, conversation – absolutely nothing-
(But to be clear, I was choking)
That having an anxiety attack is a lot like having an orgasm
For that one tiny, perfectly deranged instant
History and present fuse together
The whole world and the cobble stone streets are connected
I’m flying over New York
My mind drifts to memories I could never uncover
Without being under the influence
I choked tonight and instantly arrived back at the place I had last choked:
Tokyo, with Ethan and Mom
I think it was New Years Day?
We ate, arguing
I steered the conversation
They refuse to understand me;
I struggled for air.
I remembered the times I had canceled out
And my body said “here we are again”
“We know we’re not dying;
But we also might very well be, –
Man, I wish I was with friends.”
I wish I was surrounded by drinks and cute boys in collegiate sweaters and glasses.
And boys in skinny black jeans and skinny black shirts
I wish someone was holding the small of my back.
She asks me if I’m on drugs
It’s funny–Every time they ask me if I’m on drugs-I believe that I’m not.
“How could you even ask that?”
(The Adderall spoke for me.)
To me, it seems, she says, not hesitantly at all –
That you are on speed;
You are red and speaking a mile a minute. I can’t understand you. We can’t understand you.
Leave the table, she says.
Get out of my room, she says.
You’ll listen to me and you’ll listen good, she says.
Please help me do the dishes, she says.
Bring home twizzlers while you’re out there, she says.
She dances around me
Amanda Wingfield in the flesh
I am Tom.
She huffs and she puffs and I blow the house down.
Waiting for my cigarette
So I don’t have to choke on air
Choke on my mistakes
On the need to get out of this house
On the sudden urge to sugardaddyforme.com
On the sex I won’t have
On the night’s sleep on the couch
Choke for my dad alone in his motel room