Quickwrite: Hoy Dia

I slipped the glass bracelets over my wrist again. Saving precious things for later had no appeal anymore. It’s been about 5 days and the bracelets haven’t broken yet, not split nor shattered. Whole and twinkling their little glass noises as I move and live my life here in Los Angeles. A city. My city. The place I love to call home. My headache and mascara inspiration. Blues and greens see-through glass as though from the seashore and sparkling with fragility. They catch me off guard when I sleep. I am aware of my hands, wrists, arms. The bangles need to be handled with care, like my life, and my aches, and my mascara. If used improperly, abused, or ignored they break and no longer function. I prefer extended metaphors to the similes here, but my fingers are foreign and my ears untrained. I need Jesus to explain his parables, I have no idea what crumbs symbolize sandwiched between the feeding of the 2 and 5 thousands (not counting the women and children). I believe in certain things. I do not believe in American Idol. I believe that though I left a message with Ums and Obviouslys I have not fouled my situation. My heart is full of oxygenating blood, feathers, the darkness of my nighttime room, & unnamed squishy things.