My Cardboard Balcony

Watch My Life by Belinda Roddie Watch my life turn into threads on the seams of a worn down jacket of black and white. We're high on honeysticks and broken dreams as we blend bodies into inky night. Our hearts are literally in our hands as we traverse the boundaries between life and death, love and hate. Our false commands to a befuddled god that didn't mean to exist in the first place just makes fools out of us all. Our words are simply strings that dangle from the stars; the swimming pools we dip our toes into are idle things. We find reflections that simply don't match the life from which I plan to self-detach.

The cat that liked to sneak into our house wasn't a stray. She was well-fed and well-groomed, and she lived with another tabby in a condo across the street from us. Still, she found our living room to be to her liking - sniffing around the couch, nuzzling her head against the coffee table. It was only when she tried to run upstairs did my wife acquiesce and carry the feisty feline back outside.