Ten Minutes

10 minutes.
Is all I have to put something in notepad

I haven’t written shit in a while.
Nothing real
I have been meaning to, but the fact that I have the ideas is what’s putting me off.
There’s too many to choose from. Where Do I start?
So I don’t.
Go figure.

In my head it keeps running.
But then it goes away and I forget about it for the rest of my life or until someone says "hey remember that one time?"
And then I do. How could I forget?
It’s to be one of those things on my grave.
Except that I will have no grave.
I will be cast off into the wind someplace of my request.
Maybe into a cat box, so some cat that I loved can touch me one last time.
And that brings me back to what I’ve been thinking about.
That sea foam green hospital in Bakersfield.
I hated it.
I cried so hard in that ugly hallway
For the woman that I had loved so much and who was not dead
but was dead.
She touched my hand one last time.
A person that she loved
And we left her there.
Alone.

And it was months before we knew when it happened.
Months!
I was on the stairway.
The one with the opening in my old house
Where I can see all of the bottom floor
And my mom told me she was gone.
She has been gone for a while.
No one told us when it happened.
But I knew she was gone that day in that ugly hospital.
With the TV on and the nurse
That told me she tried to end her life.
And I thought,
It’s already over,
Why don’t you just let her?