Monday, October 24, 2011

a little farther away from me.



And we watch them grow, we watch them go,
we watch their colors fade,
their outlines--their shades--all go to gray,
and then we watch them die.

I never said goodbye.


Love is watching someone die.



And I sat on my deck, I was in a chair. And I cried.
I cried so loud.

I thank the Lord that my friend was with me.
We were sitting in my bedroom, on my floor.
I was on Facebook, and then I saw it.

I told her what happened.
She said, "That's too bad."

I have a large gap in my memory.

I stayed the night with him.
I know it hurt--he thought for a second
that maybe I was someone else.
I know it helped--afterwards,
he knew he still had me.

I went to my 8:00 class the next morning.
College Algebra. I couldn't concentrate,
but I tried to grasp normalcy.

I skipped classes. I sat in the library.
I know he would have wanted me there.

I sat in the library. In a group I didn't know.
And then one asked me,
"Heaven or hell?"

You might have been asking me
what kind of meat I prefer.
So casual.

As if it were in my hands.
As if I knew the voice of God
and the heart of another.
As if it were that simple.

It rained, of course.

You didn't make your cue
and I didn't make it to my car.
I broke down somewhere on the sidewalk.

Then I had dreams.
For six months, I dreamt
of asking you to come to church 
with me.

I don't remember your hair anymore.

And to be honest, I don't know how
beginnings and endings are definite.
Everything has blurred ever since.



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