Tuesday 20 July 2010

Can't hold on to me.

I linger in the doorway
Alarm clock screaming
Monsters calling my name
Let me stay
Where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops as they’re falling tell a story

In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me

Don’t say I’m out of touch
With this rampant chaos/your reality
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge
In the nightmare I built my own world to escape

Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
Oh, how I long for the deep-sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light
This morning we have Amy Lee's voice competing with the theme music for Wayside on the television and everyone is patiently waiting for the baby-muffins to be ready. Daniel is baking them. Alone. Which means they will be perfect because he's a perfectionist. It also means they will take forever because he butters the pan perfectly and cracks the eggs perfectly and makes perfect conversation to cover up the fact that his eyes are puffy this morning and he is rather drawn and tired-looking and I know he fights with Schuyler and I know Schuyler can be cutting and cruel. Caleb-caliber cruel except that Caleb is afraid of nothing and Schuyler is afraid of me. And so he should be. Daniel is my charge, just like I am Lochlan's for the time being while Ben works overtime on top of overtime to finish this project.

Lochlan is reading through his notes and working from home. His reflexes are to lock me down and bar the door whenever Caleb's horns and forked tongue are showing at the same time and frankly I believe he feels left out. I spent hours hanging out in the crook of his arm yesterday, working on some stories I have been commissioned to write and then trying to stay awake while I listened to music on my BlackBerry, headphones jammed in tight to block out his parental tirade. Gentle, but still parental so I rebel and invite Daniel to come up and spend the morning because Daniel needs to be shaken, not stirred some days and really I wish that everyone would just act the same all the time, which is on their best behavior but oh, then things aren't any fun and it's much better when there is some fun.

I have chosen to retreat back into black this morning and the black stockings, platform shoes and buttoned-black dress are almost too much for Lochlan to bear. He prefers beach-Bridget, as did Jacob. Bikini top under eyelet camisole. Jeans. Flip-flops or dirty feet altogether. Evil eye bracelet leaving a tan line on my arm and tattoos covered with SPF30, always because faded tattoos make sadness in the world. Same big black bag slung over my shoulder, full of lip gloss, pennies, bobby pins, CDs and photographs. Always.

Imaginary would sound better on eleven but Henry takes priority and so it is on three. And these muffins would taste a lot better if Ben was sitting here eating one with me but really we all know he would shove the whole thing into his mouth and then get up and knock the chair over and proceed to eat the rest of them and then drink the coffee straight from the coffee pot before taking a bite out of the glass to wash it down so really in a way this is maybe better because this way everyone gets some and I'll still be able to make some coffee later when the afternoon narcolepsy begins to soak through my limbs and brain.

If it can find the way through all of this black, Lochlan says, reading my mind.

It comes from the inside out. I scowl at him and return to my words, I can arrange them with the blinding white light of a seaside morning where the sand is still warm and the waves break clear on broken shells, or I can go dark and shine a dim light on the letters as I pull them off the floor, puncturing my hands on the nails scattered around them, peeling back my fingernails, blood pouring down my knuckles as they become slippery but having to endure the pain to feel which letter I picked up in the first place because I cannot see. For the death of me, I cannot see.

Both are equally compelling, and equally likely on a day like today.