my mind creates things my hands cannot make.
and so i sat on the couch and plucked the poly-fil from its fabric casing and slowly stuffed it back into its plastic bag for next time, next time i think of something that will never take shape.
i watched a television show about people who have so much money they have to make things up in order to spend it all- they actually admitted to not being able to spend it all- and then i cried a little for the hour's worth of their pay that would change the entirety of my life. no more debt to limit me- no more staying where i am just because i cannot leave. i could start in the direction i have finally chosen.
i carried the laundry down the stairs and envisioned myself falling- tumbling and crashing. the roundest places of me colliding with sharp corners, as they are wont to do. bruises and blood. eventual quiet.
my heart creates things my life cannot make.