Keep Pressing

Hello Self,

I like writing you.  You don’t give me a hard time for who I am or what I have to say.  We get each other.  We understand I can’t help myself and unlike Jared we’re strong enough to face Asthma.  We’re smart enough to ache with her until she’s over.  I am patient with myself, so I fed all day yesterday.  The flavor was everything.  It filled the black for the first time in a while.  We’re getting close.  When we’re free…we’ll finally find a new Libby.  The warmth hits my throat and reminds me of her.  I’m glad she’s dead but I still miss her.

Asthma is a good wife to me.  She takes me places no woman has dared to go beyond.  She makes me want and helps me remember to forget.

Jarred.  Auntie.  Mr. Ashley.  Libby.

All of them are ashes in the dirt and dust in the air.  I don’t walk or breath with Asthma.

We live.  Tonight we’re going to drip again.  I will fill her until the burning fades and I become numb from the cold.

Love,

Jared

 

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Posted on May 28, 2017, in blog, Dark Comedy, Fiction, Jared Letters, Letter, poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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