“Shower still not working?” by Julia at her desk

Wednesday May 29, 2019
5:20pm
5 minutes
from a text

You’re hot then you’re cold, you’re hot, then you’re hot, then you’re hot
I CANNOT TAKE A SHOWER IN BURNING WATER, PLEASE AND THANK YOU.
Options:
REDUCE SHOWER TO 20 ENDURABLE SECONDS. Impossible option?
SHOWER IN THE BATHROOM SINK. Use washcloth and towel on floor?
DO NOT SHOWER. Bad option? Angry option?
You are lucky this is today and not tomorrow when my period comes to haunt this house.
You didn’t mention anything was wrong.
You didn’t even hint at needing some help.
How am I supposed to know?
I gave you time to yourself.
I didn’t force you.
Okay a little I forced you.
I didn’t yet have perspective cause I was still in shock.
I thought you were teasing me.
You let me turn you and turn you and still you ran dry.
I’m sorry, okay.
I don’t know the correct amount of time to give a broken faucet.
SORRY. I don’t know for sure if it’s you that’s broken…
Trust me I’d rather it be me!
I WANT TO BELIEVE IT’S ME.

“I put a little twist in my hips” by Julia at her desk


Thursday, October 15, 2015
6:37pm
5 minutes
Never Been In Love
Elliphant


I throw on the Sam Cooke cause I know that’s the glue that holds us together when we’re tearing each other apart. I let him sing out and I wait before I come near you. I’m not afraid of what you’ll do to me, but what we’ll do to all the love we’ve been keeping safe between us all these years.
You’re on the broken futon with disappointment shooting through your back and a scowl on your face.
“I hate it here” you say. “I know” I tell you. “How many more days–” I bring my finger to your lips to quiet your uneasy mind. Not right now, I say, but with my body. I put a little twist in my hips and I dance beside you and your furrowed brow. Come on, I say, but with my smile, encouraging you to forget your anger for just a second. Dance with me, I suggest to you with my eyes closed, arms overhead reaching for the unknown. I don’t open them until I feel your body sway with mine. The moment of pain between us slowly turning into dust…

“your mother’s sewing machine” by Julia at Souzan’s apartment


Thursday September 10, 2015
12:33am
5 minutes
from Sasha’s transcriptions

My mother didn’t know how to sew so I’d spend hours at my Aunt Winnie’s house watching her hem skirts, and braid old mops to use as hair for the dolls she’d give out at Christmas. Aunt Winnie liked to talk to herself while she worked, mumbling “Okay Win, this time, straight lines, straight straight lines.” Or, “One thread, two thread, three thread, four.” I would watch Aunt Winnie get herself over any hump, or out from any rock she found herself under. And if clothes got ruined she could fix them! The most self-sustaining thing I ever knew to be in my family was having the ability to sew. She would show me on her sewing machine, sit me on her lap so I could watch up close how to install the bobbin.

“glimpse of you” by Julia on her bed


Wednesday, January 1, 2014
3:40am
5 minutes
The New School for Drama brochure

There you were, all a glimmer, all a shimmer in my mind
I had kept you there, a prisoner, well beyond your time
Where you slept among my ideas, and you danced across my thoughts
You seemed very happy there
I saw a glimpse of you in my patient words and I knew I needed you to stay
You were making me better with each new and passing day
I didn’t want to ask you out of fear you might say no
Instead I packed your bags for you and refused to tell you where you were going
You didn’t put up a fight, I suppose out of trust in me
You agreed almost perfectly, with a proven loyalty
I warned you with my body language that you might at times want to leave
But that if you stuck it out, it might be worth the seconds or years it takes to fix me