Burn Your Belongings excerpts

What varies between now and the previous times. what’s consistent. why shouldn’t he. there’s never been anything to bind me. he spits it into the palm of my hand. he watches her hanging out the laundry. the drab colors she prefers. I hope she’s punished for this. each day everything begins anew. still it doesn’t interest me. she says she’s sick. I should go alone. she doesn’t even try. doesn’t care what conclusions I draw. what I think her reasons are. why she’s still here. breathe. talk. repeat the same gestures. things that melt then freeze again. I never acquire anything. I stare at space. eat air. touch illusions. drink forgetfulness. she sits down next to me. what is it she wants to know. he spends all his time thinking about this one thing. has destroyed everything he’s ever owned. her voice is the most distinctive. clear as a bell above the others. it’s too cold to go outside. even for a moment. the idea of sacrifice. the similarities end there. slips out the door. everyone believes me. fluffs his pillow. what have I learned the value of. what would I fight to keep. while she’s working. midstream. collecting her thoughts. looks at her watch. says good-bye. he arrives on time. doesn’t turn on the lights. no matter how unpleasant it is I can endure it if there’s an end in sight. I don’t need to be happy. if I turn this corner life will start over. she hasn’t noticed. she’s daydreaming. without a name or a past. the tiniest piece imaginable. I’ve wasted all this time. a hole kicked in a drum. I should’ve been learning something. how to do something. they’re kept from me. protected from the wind. the last petal. accepted. cared for. I only see their backs. what’s now covering bone. their noses pressed to this. what I’ll never be able to see. why must she always remind me. why won’t she let me block it out of my mind. I thought I was going to die. he’s trying to calm me. they’re following us. I don’t trust him. I’ll never know how it feels. (pg.87)



I’m seen. I’m understood. my every movement’s expected. I want to stay until it all becomes as dull as where I’ve left. I chose her. I’m doing something wrong. it lives. it isn’t dead like the days I do nothing. it has it’s own life. I’ve given it life to spite life. I’ve brought it into existence to belittle existence. I’m tired of wanting her to be happy. I’ll be breaking every window. each time a louder crash. don’t apologize for him. remain anonymous. force him to confess. she hadn’t meant to stay here so late. she rushes off. I was trying to get him to talk. he only grunted. exhaled. spun. where else could either of them go. the wind harshly stings all exposed skin. past possible hiding places. he’s relieved she’s gone. it’s peaceful in the darkness. there was nothing more that could be done. he goes to bed. in the morning. soap. toothpaste. hot water. fog on the mirror. I walk to the station as slowly as I possibly can. I feel weaker than yesterday. more susceptible to these thoughts. I follow. I’m smiling. she hates to be alone but can’t continue waiting for him to acquiesce. I stray further and further. I hope to come across her. I quicken my pace. I’m mistaken. he finds that he can fit himself into a much smaller space than he even thought possible. smooth on either side. floats downwards to the floor. this doesn’t wake them from their slumber. so tightly are their eyelids pressed against their weary eyes. he’s convinced that he can. with reptilian silence. to it’s logical conclusion. an even tighter fit. she takes a handful of his hair and pulls. it seemed so unlikely these events would coincide. the usual bells and parting doors through which I still must trudge. I think of raindrops running down leaves. I rub the goose bumps on my arms. I descend. the part of them that devours everything and can never be trusted. won’t be lulled. isn’t sentimental. cleanly severs dangling limbs. hours to kill. moves clumsily. aggressively through this ever expanding emptiness. (pg. 88)



One purpose only. years to burn. I wish I could’ve made him that happy. I’d like mine to have more dignity. two　at once. incessant light. how long am I indebted to her for this. all the strength that I can muster.　every ounce of concentration. my voice hoarse. does it make it any different from the previous one hundred million times. through it all jealousy stinging. her options dwindling. scampering about as the light fades. someone whispers to her. avoid this fate. she’s left him something to remember her by. always the same line of questioning. the periphery. too quiet. quickly exhausted. without effect. never should be glorified. a slow painful process. where I came to rot. nourish my stupidity. she makes hardly any noise but he knows she’s there. directionless. irritated. rushed the others out the door. it’s a twisted. pieces missing. version of my own. what’s expected. too few restrictions. it’s the third time he’s said he’d give me the money. he still hasn’t. she sleeps in my arms. her face is colorless. she denies that it’s genuine intimacy. she’s hoping he’ll transform before her eyes. a few steps backwards. inform me. flourish. she’s bad with names. I’ve forgotten them. sink like corpses. I’ve squeezed it all into one face. their eyes only two. come and claim my life. approach. rehearse. let them think this sinister. turned towards me. can’t pass without brushing up against it. what’s infectious. will do the same to her. flee. amuse herself at my expense. can it jump to my eyeballs. does it begin at the mouth. can I inhale it through my nose. I knew one day I’d meet him. I’m denounced and he’s listening. concentrate. the shapeless lumps to whom I’ve given my loyalty. the sunlight. over my shoulders and onto her face. born just yesterday. from where I expect consolation. the same reason I’m penniless. he became a ghost. given freedom. could finally look upon us lovingly. he should’ve let him hit me. I want scars. I need constant reminders. (pg. 89)