Save me a place. It’s nice to have a safe place to go to express myself when I feel ecstatic or alone. There’s this abandoned house in the middle of the woods. My boyfriend in high school used to take me there. It was the strangest thing though. This house was surrounded by a cotton field. In Upstate New York. There was a car locked into the detached garage with a cement block thrown into the back window. Blair Witch had come out not too long ago. I wouldn’t go inside. The picture frames shattered on the front porch looked staged. Whomever had lived there did not leave happy. My boyfriend and his friends had brought a Ouija board to the house one night and scared themselves shitless. Now I imagine what they burned in the furnace. Sometimes when my mind wanders it goes to a few different images from my memory. One is that house, another is when I went to Berkeley with some friends for the weekend when I was 20. We stayed in one of the co-ops and I woke up too early. Everyone was still asleep on the floor. I snuck out and sat in my car smoking cigarettes while it rained. I just stared at the building waiting for everyone to wake up. I thought, “I won’t have to feel this way when I grow up.” All dressed up with nowhere to go. That’s where my mind goes when it goes blank.
If anyone ever wanted to know what I was thinking, they’d know where to go.