reminder of someone i never met before

a massive blizzard has just swept over city chicago
its dark avenues of nothing but screams and sweeping snow wind
eliza and i traveled out into it
two lumps bleating in our disappearance
went to bao
smoked cigarettes i didn't want to smoke
spoke words i didnt speak
he turns and says
"words from you often feel like the ones
that were never there"

my death could be
right now.
little deaths
we can spend against our life
to adorn the constant anxiety of
right now.

im biding my days here
unable to stay and unable go because i am unsure if i can leave eliza here
living in our apartment alone bearing this place
but i am going a kind of crazy
deflating
into a different self every day
one i less admire and take interest in

today the snow was very high and no cars were able to drive
this changed everything
for an hour
people were smiling and saying hi to one another
taking walks to the water
almost relaxing calm expressions with
the whole place buried in white

maybe i am not getting across here
maybe i smoked a bit
maybe i just read a devastating, beautiful critique of universities-capitalism
maybe im naked on a huge weird pillow
maybe im stupid or confident and burning alive
maybe my body is starting to make me nervous
it is making me nervous

now my edges are burning with the detritus of the hours
let the self-loathing just expand enough to take me. yet
if i had to dance the most beautiful dance to save it all
whatever it is we feel we have lost
yeah i definitely could do it

lying on floor
no school tomorrow for this place
i have numbers flooding from my name
got loans and barcodes
wigs are spilling over from the closet
dildo confused within computer cords
tomorrow will begin again on replay of today and all the recent yester-days
oatmeal being the most authentic bait to wake
or else we might not
wake up!
eliza and justin will take up opposite pillows on the floor
and listen to each others' silences
we love each other and and are shockingly comfortable
holding each others' fucked-up vomit, palms cupped

but still even from within the grave
even while being buried alive
beyond the shovels and torches
you look up and see the sky

ok i have written a lot
spilled myself all around
in darkish stains
but dont think
im very gone.
i motivate myself by
acknowledging how i become dead