Frozen Eclairs can be the theme. I imagine a party hosted and only frozen eclairs served. Someone would say "But, aren't these meant to be defrosted." And I will look up in wonder. I thought the term frosted could mean more then just the chocolate glaze.
I don't want to have to be explained. I ask my brothers for some diet coke and they drive across town to a twenty four supermarket. They come home with frozen things. Fish sticks, Eclairs, ice cream - the only thing casually warm- is my diet coke. No pretenses- I'll drink it without ice.
I ask for my i-pod and watch the room without it's sounds. I hear the music and pretend I can write louder then my thoughts. Angrier. Run right the hell off with my sentences. Oh, how they run on and on.
I turn myself off just before I might turn on. You mistake my touch for want. I want the lights on. I want to see. I want to not put a stumbling block by my feet. I want sound on my computer, a keypad that moves, a computer that doesn't need to think before I see my words hit the screen.
I want to unwind and never have to feel the strings pull me back in. I want sleep to hit me like little slaps across my face. Sleep, damn it. Relax. Lie down and close your eyes and just forget.
It's a party we are all one day invited to. Made to tell who called us in. Who asked us to show ourselves up.
And here I am touching thirty. Up on my toes, wearing shoes I never thought I would walk in. Not even for a day.
Serving only frozen eclairs.
What would you do if you could see me now? Would you close your eyes?
Or would you pull my hair back,
turn me around,
remove the frozen eclair from my hand-
and ask,
"Isn't there anything else to eat around here?"
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