searching for proof i am alive

a poem on losing yourself to time

“People like to think of themselves as points moving through time, but I think it's probably the opposite. We are stationary and time passes through us.” - I’m Thinking of Ending Things (2020)

I bought gum I used to like as a kid yesterday. I, maybe stupidly, thought it would bring me closer to her. My heart swayed in the aisle. I grasped the pink container, my grip left an indent in the plastic. Finally, I had her again.

I brought it home, waited until all the other groceries were put away then turned the lights off. I layed down and unwrapped the gum, pink dust on my fingertips. I felt only my breath. I brought it to my lips, sugar and water.

I am still alone in this apartment. I’ve done it again. I can never stop grasping for proof I am alive. I break the package into two pieces, swallowing them each whole. My stomach contorts around the plastic.

The hum of the AC cocoons me. I grasp my mouth, the gum is down but I have no body. Evidence, but no girl. Time, the criminal that he is, has taken her again. He kills me like this but he does not stay long enough to watch me cry.

It’s been years but I haven’t moved from the apartment floor. I will not leave and risk getting further from her. I’ve punched walls, spent my savings, performed seances, cried rivers, rushed all the blood to my head. I am still alone here. There is more time in my veins than blood, and neither is keeping me alive.