Selected Works of Alexandra Lopez Iglesias

TWENTY-SIX DAYS SOBER

from the hills of Silverlake,

I had to abruptly change my living situation.

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Still detoxing, angry, sweaty, tired, thirsty,

the mess that was me was too much to handle.

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"I'm not cut out for this" were his exact words.

I cried for seven minutes, purchased 10 mid size boxes, packed, got a truck.

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June 14th, I called my father's sister. 

          "Yes, you can stay here until we sell     the house. There is an empty bedroom waiting for you."

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There was definitely more light here...

It took a few breaths, but I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

 

I remember the countless chats with my aunt, deep, light-hearted, enlightening, painful, as she smoked her

BENSON & HEDGES

whose second-hand smoke I gladly and nostalgically inhaled.

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I remember staring out of the glass sliding doors every morning as I laid in bed,

pausing in the stillness,

not knowing in which direction to go,

IN AN UNFAMILIAR BODY, IN AN UNFAMILIAR LIFE.

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At night those doors remained open

with only  a screen between me and the city, and the sounds of the trains...

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ALWAYS THE TRAINS.

The sound of these comforting and reassuring,

and filled with memories of home

and loved ones lost. 

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