The Pussy

Shit Piss Cunt Fuck

We both know I won’t make 30, I told her. What will you put on my grave. “Kiss Joy as it Flies,” she said.

She died at 4AM Wednesday morning. 36. Heart attack. Drug related. Funeral is tomorrow. I think about putting a snow pea flower in her coffin. I think about her in the coffin and I have to cry.

She’s the other voice in my internal dialogue now. I have to write about you, I tell her. I don’t know what to call it. Maybe “Goodbye Baby” but I never called you baby. Yes, that’s stupid, she says. Obviously shit like “RIP” is out; “She’s Gone,” “She Died,” what the fuck. I can’t use your name. I’m afraid your mom will read it. She’ll think I’m spreading shit that you did drugs. Well you did– you did a ton of fucking drugs. Order an eight ball at 10PM and cook it all up and then another eight ball at 3 in the morning. I had work the next day. Woken up by your douchey fucking dealer from San Diego with the spiky hair. He wanted to fuck you but who didn’t. At least he was respectful about it. Just get a quarter ounce at the start of the night, I’d say. Trying to sound cool. Like I was top secret drugs guy too. Really I was scared.

Well what about “Kiss Joy as it Flies.” It’s too corny, I tell her. But it’s true, she says. Yeah but I can’t be titling shit after William Blake on my blog about fucking whores and taking shits. Stop being afraid to be corny, she says. Just share how you feel. Well then how about “Shit Piss Cunt Fuck,” I say, and she says perfect.

Why did you have to die, you bonehead. How did you go. Were you on pills like they said or did you slip on a banana peel. How will your mom react if she sees me at the funeral. What is this flower on this tree. Why are you not here to tell me. You always knew. Why did you have to die and now I can’t see you anymore. You’re in a fridge at the morgue. I don’t want you to be cold. I want to give you a warm blanket. There has to be a way to make it not true. Wake up. Reset everything. I want to just hear your voice one more time. Your laugh.

I was gonna do a ninth step with you but my sponsor told me not to. Stay away from the girls, he said. But you weren’t a girl that way. What if I’d done a good job. What if you came to AA and lived. What if a unicorn came out of my ass, we could hitch a ride on it, it would suck me off after.

I’ll see you in your coffin clothes and think what you might say about the outfit. I can’t let you go into the ground. Darkness and silence. I don’t want you to be scared.

There was a loose pit bull on the street this morning. Looked like yours. What if it was, I thought. You lived 15 miles from me but I chased him anyway. Because what if you warged into him like Jon Snow. Came and found me. The neighbor’s pit chased him away. What if you got hit by a car. I’m a sane adult and I’m scared your spirit is inhabiting a dog. It knows enough to get to my apartment but not enough to stay off Sunset Boulevard. Year of Magical Thinking shit. I wanted to reread that book before making this post, but I lent it to you I think. Little awkward getting it back.

When my cat is out at night I go call him. Coyotes coming; he’ll get shaken to death by his neck. Too long and every shadow starts to look like him running toward me. Same with you now. Every breeze is your spirit. Every animal possessed by you to look me in the eye, and tell me: what? What is the message from the dead? Would you really inhabit a squirrel in my trash can. Look up from worrying a Jack in the Box bag with one french fry in it. Wordlessly tell me the meaning of life. Knowing you: maybe. I saw a green finch and I stared and stared until I heard your voice. You said: retard, you’ve seen this same finch fifteen thousand fucking times. It lives here.

What can I say about her. She was smart. She was funny. She was pretty. I loved her as much as I’ve loved anybody. She loved me like that too. I’m glad I got to feel that. Now I’m glad I remember.

She took care of me. I took care of her. When she took too many pills I’d turn her over. One day I couldn’t. It hurts. I wish I’d said something. Told her life gets better when you stop this shit. The world goes deeper than what you know. What you’re running from isn’t so bad. But I can’t tell her now, so I’m gonna tell you:

Stay here.

Stay with me.