Alone or one of a kind?
If you sit in this room with me
And hear the sounds I
Can then maybe one day you’ll
Wake up and see the same sights I see,
Feel the same things I feel,
Fear the same things I fear…
Heck, maybe you’ll be exactly like me.
Because this room is the reason for
everything I am.
If you were here, with me,
Possibly maybe it would hit you the same
Way it hit me
Over and over again
In wave after wave of agony mixed
With paradise.
But that’s right.
Your best friend probably never
Had sex in a stolen car parked on private property
With a man who said he’d always loved her
But was really dead drunk, and
Who had no idea that when he was sober
He’d hate her.
And when this best friend was done
When the fun was over, and she
Realized the cops were getting out of their cars
…
Well. Your best friend
Never realized after she was arrested
That she was pregnant.
After she served her mercifully
Short jail sentence
She didn’t meet the man who’d done it
To her in that car and stuck her in prison,
Equipped with a kid.
Your best friend wasn’t
Three – maybe four – months pregnant
When he, angry because he thought it was
Her fault just like she assumed it was his
…beat her senseless to prove a point.
Since that never happened to your best friend,
You’re not in danger of losing the only person
Who so far in life has given you so much more
Than you ever earned.
Who so far has been more than any lover,
Any family member or lesser friend,
Could have been.
You’ll never be exactly like me.
You’ll never sit in
This room, this white room filled with
Worried mothers and cousins and step-families
And acquaintances and old friends,
And all the other people who think they deserve the right
To see your best friend first when
(and if)
she comes out of that room alive.
You’ll never cry in a corner
All by yourself
Because these people who care nothing for you
But everything for her
Shove you out of the way when the doctor comes out
And asks around for a mystery person
With your name.
And I might as well admit that yes
This is a story I’m telling you because
No one else will listen.
Nobody else cares
And maybe you’re intrigued by my sorrow
But for now
The doctor is beckoning to me with a tattered note in his hand
Like it came out of the wash a few minutes ago.
Excuse me, but my fate is apparently waiting for me.
“This is for you. She said that you had to see this.”
I’m reading it. I can’t tell you what it is,
Because my hands are shaking
And I can hardly read it myself for all the tears in my eyes.
Will I find out that it’s a bill for something she bought me
And will I find out that she never really liked me
And wants me to pay off her debts when she dies?
I guess I could live with that, maybe.
It’s a drawing.
A stick figure I drew her
When I was five years old.
The one and only thing I have ever given her,
Because the rest of the time I was too busy or too poor
To give anything else.
She kept it all these years, to let me have back
Because she thought she’d borrowed it all those years ago
And now, after she’s dead and doesn’t need it anymore
Wants me to have it back.
But that never happened to you.
I had to be clear, excuse me for putting all this on you
I had to be clear that this never happened to you.
I had to be sure because you see
I’m so afraid of life without her
Of life alone
I had to be sure that I really was alone
I had to be sure that my fears weren’t irrational.
But they are rational.
Can you remind me to leave
When the doors close and the lights go out?
I might just be here
Frozen
Until closing time.
I need time to process exactly what just happened.
And hear the sounds I
Can then maybe one day you’ll
Wake up and see the same sights I see,
Feel the same things I feel,
Fear the same things I fear…
Heck, maybe you’ll be exactly like me.
Because this room is the reason for
everything I am.
If you were here, with me,
Possibly maybe it would hit you the same
Way it hit me
Over and over again
In wave after wave of agony mixed
With paradise.
But that’s right.
Your best friend probably never
Had sex in a stolen car parked on private property
With a man who said he’d always loved her
But was really dead drunk, and
Who had no idea that when he was sober
He’d hate her.
And when this best friend was done
When the fun was over, and she
Realized the cops were getting out of their cars
…
Well. Your best friend
Never realized after she was arrested
That she was pregnant.
After she served her mercifully
Short jail sentence
She didn’t meet the man who’d done it
To her in that car and stuck her in prison,
Equipped with a kid.
Your best friend wasn’t
Three – maybe four – months pregnant
When he, angry because he thought it was
Her fault just like she assumed it was his
…beat her senseless to prove a point.
Since that never happened to your best friend,
You’re not in danger of losing the only person
Who so far in life has given you so much more
Than you ever earned.
Who so far has been more than any lover,
Any family member or lesser friend,
Could have been.
You’ll never be exactly like me.
You’ll never sit in
This room, this white room filled with
Worried mothers and cousins and step-families
And acquaintances and old friends,
And all the other people who think they deserve the right
To see your best friend first when
(and if)
she comes out of that room alive.
You’ll never cry in a corner
All by yourself
Because these people who care nothing for you
But everything for her
Shove you out of the way when the doctor comes out
And asks around for a mystery person
With your name.
And I might as well admit that yes
This is a story I’m telling you because
No one else will listen.
Nobody else cares
And maybe you’re intrigued by my sorrow
But for now
The doctor is beckoning to me with a tattered note in his hand
Like it came out of the wash a few minutes ago.
Excuse me, but my fate is apparently waiting for me.
“This is for you. She said that you had to see this.”
I’m reading it. I can’t tell you what it is,
Because my hands are shaking
And I can hardly read it myself for all the tears in my eyes.
Will I find out that it’s a bill for something she bought me
And will I find out that she never really liked me
And wants me to pay off her debts when she dies?
I guess I could live with that, maybe.
It’s a drawing.
A stick figure I drew her
When I was five years old.
The one and only thing I have ever given her,
Because the rest of the time I was too busy or too poor
To give anything else.
She kept it all these years, to let me have back
Because she thought she’d borrowed it all those years ago
And now, after she’s dead and doesn’t need it anymore
Wants me to have it back.
But that never happened to you.
I had to be clear, excuse me for putting all this on you
I had to be clear that this never happened to you.
I had to be sure because you see
I’m so afraid of life without her
Of life alone
I had to be sure that I really was alone
I had to be sure that my fears weren’t irrational.
But they are rational.
Can you remind me to leave
When the doors close and the lights go out?
I might just be here
Frozen
Until closing time.
I need time to process exactly what just happened.