There was something strange about the symmetry of my apartment. I couldn't be there too long without the walls closing in on me. Don’t get me wrong I loved my apartment. I loved every corner and crevice, just not intimately, not as you should love a home. I woke up this morning and turned on the stove. It reminded me of Sylvia Plath. My grandfather use to read me her poems. He’d close the book he was reading from, take off his glasses and let them fall to his chest. “Never be a poet like this.” he’d say. I’d look up from him, criss crossed on the carpet and say “Who said I wanted to be a poet.” Despite being a writer my grandfather was a cruel man who hated most literature. He was the type of man that believed I would learn by the stroke of his hand not the stroke of his pen. I have cuts, hidden by my thick hair; My grandfather would smack the back of my head, rattling my brain momentarily. He had heavy metal rings, one expensive and spiked. I had a buzzcut season in my youth, the scars would protrude. Children would question the mosaic of multicolored bruises. “I tripped.” I’d say, stern enough for the subject to drop. I love my grandfather. He and Mark are the only men I’ve ever loved.

The hiss of the kettle interrupts my thoughts. The kettle is burning on the stove top. The tea kettle screams loudly, its innerads burning and scalding its metal walls. I hate tea. I took my coffee black and my tea even blacker. I’ve never had a sweet tooth but the writer in me told me I needed a tea as well as coffee addiction. Afterall, beggers can’t be choosers and I was begging to kick down my metaphorical writers block wall. Writer's block is like drowning in a lake of Jello. Your chance of escape is possible but the irony and shock of the situation keeps you stabilized, stuck in place. You feel foolish once your heads above the gelatinous surface but in that moment your body is as slick as a fish with nervous sweat.

I finally sit down, IKEA mug in one hand and a pen in the other. I have one mug, a blank document, and an empty saturday evening.

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