But I never did know
if you were for me
or for everyone else.
Just as I am.
But I never did know
if you were for me
or for everyone else.
Just as I am.
What if we didn’t love the wrong people during the holidays?
What if we let people in, instead of shutting them out?
What if we realized how messed up the world is? Even at this very moment?
Would our fridge still be full of food we are not going to finish?
Would you tell me that it didn’t matter?
Would you tell me that everything is going to be alright?
Would you believe it?
What if you asked a stranger “how are you?”?
What if they told you they weren’t alright?
What if you asked a friend?
What if they told you they are alright, but you know better?
What if you asked me?
What if, even with a cross around my neck, I told you I’m not?
What I did know,
truly and fully,
was him next to me,
his face against my own.
The music he was listening to was
way too loud,
leaking through his headphones,
and I was happy.
I guess
I wanted to believe
for once
that would be enough.
Because the leaves were all changing
and the traffic kept rushing.
And I was still stuck in the way his eyes shone,
whenever he laughed.
They really got to you, didn’t they?
Pushing you on towards the edges
tore apart your broken mind.
Now all you hear is chaos,
a beating drum within the ground.
Step in here, darling,
come in close, and closer still.
In you there is a fire,
and I won’t let this one be still.
Come on now, stand before me,
stretch your arms towards the sky.
I’ll stay here, yes, right behind you.
Take the step, you’ll be alright.
I fall in love with pieces,
smaller pieces of their being
perks and quirks and qualities
I’m scared the world is still not seeing.
Like the way he sang along to songs
he’d never before heard.
Or the way that he knew everything,
then cried in my arms at night.
Or how he saw me beautiful
when no one else could do it.
But listen to me, please. It was dark.
Dead.
They were dead.
There was no life.
I have read somewhere that darkness is just a lack of light, so I turned around and looked for light.
Made eye-contact with the security guard outside the bar.
Dead.
He raised his eyebrows at me.
I shook my head.
I smiled.
Shy.
I kept on walking, drunken laughter behind me.
“I don’t miss it”, I thought, I turned up the volume to my headphones.
Rounded a corner, past a couple of teenagers. Made sure I didn’t made eye-contact with them, too. I don’t want to know of their liveliness, or lack thereof.
Darkness is just a lack of light.
Jesus.
Jesus?
JESUS?!
Where are you?
“What are you doing?”
“I’m writing, Mom.”
“What are you writing?”
“I – I don’t know.”