Nothing Lasts
You lied. This isn’t what you said at all. I didn’t want you to, or the way they said it, or the way anyone does. You were wrong, why did you lie to me? We’ll still talk, when you want. It’s like I never left. You told me. I wanted to believe you; nothing will change. I really did. But now we can’t ride our bikes anywhere, you live too far away. We can’t come you your house after school for icy pops from the freezer. We can’t look for frogs in the backyard anymore, like we used to. It's a sad word, used to. But now that’s what it is. Used to. So then I said, no way.
I was waiting by the porch steps. Every day. Until the day you said you’d visit creeps closer. It doesn’t hurt, you said. I’ll be back, you said. You said so many things but saying and feeling aren’t the same. Saying is a promise and you can’t take back a promise. Or words. Words drift around and stay here forever, like the stars and clouds in the sky, until someone covers it up and it’s forgotten. Then they disappear. It’s a forgotten promise then. The promise that you’d stay here forever. But is a forgotten promise a broken promise? Because I haven’t forgotten, and I don’t intend to break it. But when you feel it’s different. When you feel everything hurts or doesn’t hurt but something always does. Words don’t have feelings.
You are my friend. No- best friend. Next door and always there. But now you’re not. Now you’re away and all those words and promises are gone, evaporated. Now the feeling is there. A hungry, grief-ridden beast waiting to pounce on my heart and tear it up when you’re not here. Lying in wait, lying in the shadows, lying in the deep depths of murkiness and horrible feelings, in its unfindable hiding spot, ready to explode out without warning. Come back. And you said no, silly. I can’t. Come back. Please. Then you turned around so you wouldn’t see how much it hurt me. It hurts you too. I know it does. Because walking away is easier than saying goodbye. So that’s what you did. You know what they always say, nothing lasts forever.
The Good Ones
Close your eyes and drift away. That’s what I say. Embrace the warm arms of stories, and let them take you away, like the clouds that soar above. There is one thing left to do, grab the pages and turn them. Each word sinking deeper into my head, the next one, the next one, and the next one. I don’t have to do anything. Just read the words. Sit on a cloud or a magic carpet or fend off a dragon or soar above the rich worlds that we have created.
The reality is gone, everything slipping away like you, until it is just me, the characters, and nobody else. Nobody else saying to do this, to do that, listen to this, listen to that, listen to me! I listen to the words I can read. Not to words I hear. My own rules, in the good ones that I love, thick covers, thin pages, bound together oh so carefully, don’t rip it!
Don’t rip the pages out of the good one, that’s my favorite. And that one, and those, those are all my favorite. Tucked away in their special place upon the shelf. The sleek, white wood is inviting. Welcoming, even. I get new ones here and there, and they find their own special spots, but not hiding spots. Because then I would never be able to find them. The good ones stay here for as long as I want them to, and they’ll never leave as long as I’m here, flipping the pages over and over, until they’re worn.
No Crying on the Basketball Court
That’s it. Right there. Through those doors. Wood floor, green paint, and stands waiting for fans to fill them.
Hard pass left, lay-up on the right. Get down there! Get the rebound. Quickly now, get it! Hold onto it like it’s a million dollars. Don’t let it go. The priceless game in a circle, turnover, turnover, over and over again. Pass here! I’m open, over here! Dribble faster, they’re behind you, defense, get in position!
Breath short, stomach churning, hurry up! They’re going to shoot and you’re not there. Room spinning, voices falling silent, get back in the game! Head hurts, knees buckle, don’t do this. Outside problems don’t happen on the basketball court. Ears ringing, the world is miles away now. Floating away on that lonely cloud, drifting, drifting away. Get out of my head! Make it disappear! Reality has no place here, just let it slip away until it’s me, on that lonely cloud. It’s too fast, swirling and spiraling, the tornado comes loose. Don’t just stand there! Not in the game, not now. Count to ten, make the dizziness stop, I’m fine! Stop asking, keep breathing. Get out of my head! Don’t put me off the court, don’t bench me, I can still play! Fueling me from the inside, with that perseverance, the warrior song I used to sing. The game needs me! I can play. I can play because there is no crying on the basketball court.
Are You There?
Listen. Don’t speak. Listen to the silence. That eerie, unsettling silence. I don’t like it. I’m going to talk now, and you better listen, because I need you. My hold on reality is broken. Like holding shattered glass and trying to piece it back together but you can’t without getting cut, and those shards don’t fit together, that one impossible puzzle.
I’ve got to talk to you. Hold still now, please. I’ve got more to say! Hello? I’m still trying to talk to you. Are you listening? Don’t push me away! Not right now, please, because I need you. I need you very much right now. I need ears, not another mouth telling me what I can’t do, another mouth telling me to be quiet, another mouth telling me it’ll all be okay, but it’s not okay. Nothing is. The glass is still shattered and you’re not listening! It’ll never be the same anyway and I need somebody to listen. Somebody to help me piece it all back together, but glass never fits the same way ever again. Can you look through the glass now for me? Everything is blurry and there are shards missing but it’s the best I can do. The cracks and fissures are still there. The damage is still visible, nothing disappears. Except you. It's not a clear and perfect vision anymore. It never will be.
I’ve got more things to say. Do you want to hear them? Does anyone? Please, this is important. The feeling of falling and losing control and not being able to fix anything is still there. Expectations and responsibilities are still there too. I’ve got to let go. I’ve got to let it go. Take the jump to the free-fall, where nothing hurts, and nothing is needed. Where is that void? That escape I want so much. I have to tell somebody.
Sing Songs
There were those kids. Those kids who had everything they wanted. The bouncy trampoline, the newest sneakers, the oh-so-cute puppy. Those were those kids.
But these kids, these new kids were different. The kids who moved in down the street with their loud dog and small car with so many boxes piled up all around the porch and garage. They took the old wooden swords and plastic shields from the attic and sang their warrior song while winding down the street. Racing faster, run on those legs! Sing it louder! Waving those swords in the air, it was their battle cry. That’s our song, they said. I sang it too, that warrior song. The weekend races and sparring with those wooden swords, all day. Just until the streetlamps shone their light, as if saying, night is coming, go home before it eats you up.
The song was different than the other songs. The warrior song forever seared into my mind. Bravery and honesty, friendship and kindness, perseverance and wonder, we could stay up all night. We almost did, in the backyard with the shabby tents from the garage. Singing our songs to the stars, and the stars blinking back. They listened, and so we sang. Raggedy voices chirping and calling out, make it rhyme! Add more lines! Fix the refrain!, until we had no more songs to sing. So we sang them again, and when dawn turned its bright side on us, we sang the warrior song until our voices went dry.
Endless
When I have no more songs to sing, plug it in and I’m quiet. But make it a good one, if it’s slow or too depressing I don’t like it. Make it fast and energetic so that I can feel the beat. Low-key, and no pressure. Headbang worthy, dance worthy. Not like those warrior songs. These are the songs of others, these are the endless numbers that I can summon from every nook and cranny in the world, in the darkness that engulfed my mind. This brings the endless light that lights even the darkest spaces.
Plug it in and I’m quiet. Don’t be shy. Show me new ones and it’ll be my favorite for at least a week. Visit my new list of all the ones I’ve collected over the years. Bring that light, come on, light the path. Ignite it for me, please. Give me new ones, all day every day. Give me that album, uplifting the spirits of my soul. Every drum. Every strum of the guitar vibrates something inside me, something every single one sparks something new inside.
Plug it in and I’m quiet. Flying on the silver-lined cloud of no worries, no problems, no pressure. Everything’s lifted up and gone. Poof. And then I tell myself, I told you so. It’s always better with the friends you’ve never met. The friends that make me feel better, blasting their sweet tune in my ears.
Plug it in and I’m quiet. Make them bad, make them about endless journeys the heroes have done, make them about the problems the endless light has fixed. That endless light fixed it for me.
The Way You Used To
It was the way you met my eyes on that very scary, very first day. Nobody else but you. Eat lunch with me. Let me fill that emptiness.
It was the way you used to laugh that made me smile. The high pitch shriek when the joke was told and the way we made the faces that looked ridiculous. When we ended up in a laughing heap on the field, everyone else watching, but that didn’t matter.
It was the way you made up all those stories. Those silly, but genius stories I never would’ve thought of if it wasn’t for you. Sitting on clouds, or a magic carpet, or fending off dragons, or soaring above the rich world we had created. Empowering our dreams. This is the one thing you should know; I’ve put my trust in you.
It was the way you started looking around me. Trailing behind, that’s what I did because I had no other choice, no other ideas what to do. So I followed. Even in those worse moments you said you didn’t need me, I still stuck there like glue. But even glue doesn’t stick forever.
It was the way you pushed past me. Worthless now. That friendship has drifted away, but I want it back now. Come back now, please. I’ve asked enough now, haven't I? What about all those times we hung out, and laughed, and slept over, and had fun? Don’t you miss it? Because this is not fun.
It was the way you started running away. Where have you gone, I can’t find you anymore. I can’t find you no matter how hard I looked. Then I started running too, no more chasing after something I couldn’t have anymore. Who’s this now, somebody who understands me and now won’t run away.
It was the way that I realized that you were done. That’s fine then. I don’t need you. Now not, and not ever again. I've got something worth me.
The Little Flames That Glow at Night
It flickers. The captured flame in a bottle, trapped, it’s not going anywhere. It will stay close to me. Iridescent wings all golden and sapphire and emerald, all the colors on one tiny flame. Eyes meet mine and turn around, don’t breathe, because you’ll scare them away, my grandfather says. Don’t scare them away to the deep depths, and back to their hiding spots where nobody can see the true beauty they carry.
Come closer, over here, there are so many here, he says again. Run though the long grass that tingles my legs when they brush up against me and like flaming fireworks they explode from their hiding spots into the sky, where they touch the stars. Stars and little flames, both so little yet so beautiful.
You were there a minute ago, but now your little flame is off, that little spark that you’ve always carried and showed off like a trophy. Now you’ve disappeared back to your own hiding spot in the deep depths where nobody can find you. But you’ll come back, you’ll always come back because you care. I care too. Enough to know that you will come back, back to that normal I’m used to. Like the little flame, turn off and you're gone. But come back on, and you're here again. On and back again. Flickering. But circles are painful. Never ending. Please stay. Please stay for me.
That little flame that glows at night, in the dark spots of the sky, closer than the stars. These stars we are able to touch. Touch one and your wishes come true. My wish... you’re coming back and never leave ever again, don’t leave me alone again. The absolute best genies, the little flames are. The little flames that glow at night.
