Cin-digi Journal

I opened the window as wide as I could, Then I took off the window screen. It's dusty, scabby with blood From cadavers of insects that I found obscene.  My hand has been part of their deaths My eyes saw things I now regret But I opened it anyways, and threw the screen off of my bed.  There, the moon waits patiently. I feel as if you're here, Shining so bright in the sky,  clearing out my pain and fear. The cicadas sing, a nocturnal hymn Melancholic and humble, an orchestra when the sky dims.  Now that everything is cleared, I sit on the window sill, legs aching. Not ready to fall back into bed,  I lean into the night's hummings. Behind the trees, lampposts stand  Unresponsive when I extended my hand. So I reach out for the moon—for you Knowing this time, I'd be listened to.  Just like every other time The moon listens to me, for she has known the story of us— the story I asked her to look after. Sharp and swift, she weaved my plea Into a ribbon that t...

      Today is me and my wife's two years anniversary. I was away on a business trip last year, but I'm home now. I can't wait to spend the day with her.      It was only 8 a.m when I woke up, sunshine streaming lazily through the cracks of the curtains. My eyes opened slowly—it is unusually bright today despise it being the middle of winter and there are more clouds than there is sun. I sat up, looking groggily around the room. My wife is nowhere to be seen. This has been going on for a while, probably since I caught her having an affair with one of my colleagues a week ago (or, as I awkwardly refer to it: "The Incident"). I did not make a fuss out of it, but she has been avoiding me by spending her time lounging in our basement. We'd go to bed together at night, then I'd wake up all alone, nostrils stinging from a pungent smell of room freshener.      My wife suddenly developed a penchant for that smell, so she began to use it for our ...