People come to my house because they think I will let them in.
So I do. Sometimes they’re drunk or on drugs or they have no money or they can’t be alone.
They are just looking for a nice place to stay for a while.
Most of the time I wish they would leave but I can’t tell them that.
I am a hospice:
I am a hostel
I am alone.
I know how to deal with being alone
but when other people come along it upsets the balance.
I want them to go but I want them to stay and be quiet.
I want them to be available for full body
warmth but only when I want it.
I have “anxious attachment”
There is no cure. No machine
No robotic surgery
No redo of childhood
Only a desperate longing
A low grade fever
All the time.