http://andrésmgarza.com/home
http://andrésmgarza.com/writing



I look at the Lights and Hope to be hit
Underneath us, the linear constant energy of the lights flowed, rapid waters that suck you in, dragging my body along between the rocks. Slashed and cut. The cars moved fast and the hazy city overlooked us, bright buildings as we stood on the dirty, electric bridge – lips tangled. Talked of sexual encounters and gauzed over music, breaking down barriers …was she trying to intimidate me, scare me away maybe? I wasn’t sure she was good, but I wanted her to be. Sat in front of the smells of coffee, it was late-ish. Not really. Randoms sat next to me and I glossed over my phone because I wanted them to get the fuck away, I was ready to meet this girl who woke me, aroused me through a screen – digitally abusing me, it was a bit of a mystery, she was vocally verbal. The red truck we went to, stood outside the window and You was struck, speechless, happy I hope. Acted nice and let me order, spoke slowly and had a grin. Together, or separate? He asked me and pointed the screen toward me to hide the fact that he was giving me a solid discount. Modern toxic chivalry. Jumped in the truck, she jumped on too, made me make our food, and so I did. Whatever you make for her she will love, and she did.
I hope.
Hope, I did many times and still do now. Still hope things are good, I think they are, I really hope they are. I left a memo. I found your lil’ memo, she told me, that they’re important. The distance threw me off balance. The blank canvas of winter flew in fast, a blizzard of snow covering my body several inches high, I tried to stay afloat and breathing. It consumed me entirely. Swallowed me whole and I sled down the esophagus into a pool of stomach acid, burning and disintegrating my body. Nothingness surrounding me, walking through the surface of the canvas without any paint in my pockets. No power within. Hope was not enough.
Things ended.
The streaks of light the cars had stained in the darkness remain in me.