September Eleventh

I only pretended I didn't know what you were talking about.
But I was telling the truth; I was okay.
But the more I think, the more it hurts.
I want to stop thinking.
But that won't help anything.
I know what day it is.
I've been waiting for it to come, just to see how terrible it would feel.
But instead, I feel the same the same the same as I always do.
I was acting weird today at lunch.
Because you were standing in that group with that kid.
I walked over.
I wanted to say hi.
To talk.
To laugh.
They were my friends too, most of them.
But I walked over, then I walked right back.
Because I couldn't do it.
Talk to them.
To him.
Because nothing will ever be the same again.
But nothing is ever going to be different again either.
I'm stuck here, between the past and the future, yet there is no such thing as the present.
There's no such thing as anything.
It's all gone gone gone like the stars and the sun.
He looks too much like him.
But I don't want to tie them together.
I want him to be gone with everything else.
But I want to be gone too.
If everything goes, I want to go too.
Take me there.
Where everything is and everything isn't.