to be alive yesterday and also right now

I am 24 and i am alive  I slither into the sliver of sunlight on my balcony  I turn my face up towards the impending blue and whisper  please While my egg fries, i stick my thumb on the oven clock  It needs cleaning and my thumb comes away sticky  The egg howls and spits at my clothes  The time reads 11:11  I’m at the red light with the windows down  I don't dare stretch my fingers into the air but i do dart my eyes, willing the men in the truck next to me to look back What are you listening to bounces off their shadowed pane of glass  They look over before the light turns green and our eyes catch  What are you looking at snarls as i step on the gas  I have never been to disneyland  But it can be no more beautiful than the shadows on the stucco at golden hour  I try to document each leaf unfurling in the waning sun  This bark, these branches are my spiritual teachers I will never do them justice and for that i am a failure I am 24 and i am angry  I sit across from a friend in a cafe and giggle about boys  I want to ask her  How does this war feel in your body  But instead i ask her if she watched the grammys  A whale could swallow me up and i would let it  I go home and whisper coward down the shower drain  At the valentines day party i drink too much stale white wine and two glasses of boxed red  I hate white wine and i hate the boxed red even more  The end of the night is fuzzy and i am certain i throw up on the sidewalk when i arrive home  The next morning i venture outside to look but there is nothing to see  It rains in la for four days  I fear of flash floods and then laugh and then cry