journal (take #55)

dear  diary,   everyone   always   brags  about  it,   but  i  think  being  the 
backbone of a  household is overrated.  anecdotal evidence arises   on a 
daily basis, when  my body inevitably aches to the point where  there  is 
nothing  i  want to do less than stand up and cook myself dinner,  but  i 
live alone,  so here i am standing barefoot in my kitchen,  making shells 
with red sauce and pretending i don’t need to cushion my heels on this 
hardwood,  that  surely  this  won’t make the throbbing in my legs even 
worse.  dear  diary,  i am past  naive— i  think i am reckless now, actively 
self-sabotaging,   but  a  gay’s   gotta   eat,   and  there’s   something   so  
spectacular   and  inviting  about   a  pot  of  boiling  water,  bubbles like 
diamond cabochons  which pop  into the ether, pushing steam into the 
dark circles under my eyes.

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nat raum is a queer disabled artist, writer, and editor based on unceded Piscataway and Susquehannock land in Baltimore. Past publishers of their writing include Split Lip Magazine, Poetry.onl, Baltimore Beat, Poet Lore, beestung, and others. Find them online at natraum.com.