leaking

 the ceiling is leaking in this old house that i can't afford

the toilet leaks, the cupboards are falling down

the bathroom sink leaks, the fence is falling down

doors don't close or open properly

nobody checks the smoke alarms

the oven regularly smokes for seemingly no reason.

there is an ant infestation.

the rent is so much we have been late for two years.

but the house is worth millions. and the neighbouring houses are worth even more.

this city is hell for me. it always has been. different levels of hell, slight variations. 

my friend warned me in the first month "this place will eat you alive" 

and it's true.

i can barely feel anything to assure me that i still live.

in this moment, at the end of two years of border closures on this fortress island prison,

my parents have come. we cried together at the airport and then i saw myself quickly stuff away those 

feelings to navigate the traffic home.

there is a part of me, smiling and warm and relaxed and hugging them

but i can't reach it most of the time.

aware of this confusing distance, i cry at night when everyone sleeps.

why does this life feel like forced regret and wasted time? 

there are more emails about how i need to fill out more forms to start a job i don't want that pays far less 

than a person needs to survive here. 

and emails that the rent is going up.  

i don't even want a break anymore as i can't remember having a break that helped anything.

i know it can't stop. 

i know i just keep going until, like the Joad's, i am stranded, after losing everything, as the floods rise

it seems that it is not the wear of use that breaks our bodies down, but knowing the weight of sadness that 

replaces the hope of youth and the body cannot carry this understanding long before crippling. 

i love them so much, more than anything. 

and yet i cannot bear to live this love somehow 

i find that i am praying for more time and hating the moment i am given