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Harriett. Oh Harriett. I can hear the rats rustling in the trash and the room is smothered with debris. The rotting half eaten yogurt I attempted to eat two days ago looks like my apathy. I wish you were here. The drapery dust reminds me of my idle and solitary life. The chair has been stuck to my bottom for almost over a year and my teeth are beginning to detach themselves from my gums: I have not brushed my teeth since autumn. I am afraid of hygiene because it means I have to move and moving is oh so scary for me. My hypoglycemic hands shake. My legs shake so hard I am weary of taking the stairs to the kitchen for some water. I curl in a ball just like you Harriett. You pull every limb, every part of yourself inward-an attempt to console the fragile line you know you must walk soon in order to be free. Must stop hiding from the mean spirited force of action that threatens your comfort. Should you spread yourself out too far, Harriett, you will lose all that you thought was you and give in to the inevitable gravity that betrays you. If I truly were Jesus, Harriett, I would die for all your sins. Our kinship may be remote, but it is all we have as far as outside the box goes. And how we tire each other out with sighs. How can I remind you of Jesus if I have no followers: I have no love in me. I have not the ability to make anyone's eyes shine and sing along with the sun's medicinal voice. I am invisible as the dead. You say you see me, but you were always an exception. I have become old and crippled since the darkness swallowed my youth. I no longer glow or dance. I do not deserve the ceremony of crucifixion; I have accomplished only a few cracked glasses and minor injuries such as spiritual deprivation and self-starvation. Nothing in particular took place Harriett. My body barks at me as I refuse to nourish it. Nothing happened. I just do not eat anymore. I hope you are well wherever you are. Your demons infect me just as if they were my own. No, I have not seen the sun in a great while. I cannot even remember the hypnotic warmth of the sun lighting up my skin. I only squint when trying to read or when I am so sleep deprived the writing on the wall is so obscure that I doubt it exists. Harriett please come to me. We are both alone, but we are tied together in the most supernatural and odd way. I miss your presence even when your presence reflects absence...
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