Julia of Oceania · Poetry · writing

Emergency Contact

Emergency Contact

 

It’s funny the way that everything can fall apart all around me, and yet, I am nearly unaffected.

When life gives you shit over lemons, you learn to realign your expectations.

 

But then I stare at the form –

The line that reads: EMERGENCY CONTACT.

I am transported to a place where I am unconscious in a ditch.

Who will EMS call?

Who will answer the call in the middle of the night?

 

I can hold my own hand.

I can dry my own tears.

I cannot be my own next of kin.

 

In a world where I’ve become conditioned to be my own everything, this feels fallible.

Part of me would find resolve in dying in that ditch.

Rather than feel their pitiful gaze, a look of realization in their eyes that communicates:

 

Oh, she’s all alone.

 

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