and warm

it’s not like i’m on fire. i sort of miss being on fire. when i was on fire at least i knew it wasn’t just me, that my illness was alive, scorching. there were claw marks in everything. it was so bad it was a brand. everyone could see, you know? but now i am just lazy. now there’s nothing but empty. now i’m an adult and i’m handling thing. the fire is still burning, it’s just that most people die from the smoke inhalation, you know? like i look fine. but my lungs don’t work. i’m saying i fucked up and my future is dying. my dreams are curled up somewhere, smothered. i’m handling it really well. everything looks good. i think. it’s just i can’t even feel what’s been happening. it’s just i think i should feel what’s been happening, and i would be scared about what this means, but i can’t be. did you know you can be in the burning house and also outside of it at the same time. my therapist says this is disassociation. i tell her. if some part of me is in and some part is out, we both win. it’s just it got too heavy to carry so i left my heart in there. it might actually even be a good thing. i don’t know. i can’t tell. i can’t feel anything.

I haven’t stayed up this late in awhile and
my head is spinning like it did that time I drank too much at that party last Halloween and
threw up on the side of the road and
called you on the walk back home.

you said you kept the voicemails but maybe she made you delete them. or maybe she didn’t need to make you. maybe you were sick of the constant reminder that I was under your skin I was there I was there I was THERE.

but we don’t miss each other now, right? now it’s empty love. empty sentiments. i talked to her in the library and my heart didn’t break. she reminds me of me but prettier I think.

but when it gets this late it’s easy to remember why I wanted you for so long. you were always awake and I was always lonely. now you’re still awake and I’m still lonely but
it’s just not about us anymore.
i don’t want you back and
i never feel like calling.
not even when I’ve had too much to drink and
i know you’re alone.

—  if this is a fairy tale ending we’ll never talk again– lily rain

There’s no such thing as too many orchids.

My bathroom smells wonderful, and I’m going to miss the scent in a couple of weeks once the dendrobium and cattleya drop their blooms.  The miltoniopses are in spike though, so come the end of April, my bathroom will be beautifully scented once again.

(Dendrobium on the right with a miltoniopsis, phal, oncidium, and cattleya on the cart, masdevallias, paph, and angraecum under the window, and a bunch of milts and oncidiums chilling in the bathtub.)