Tuesday, May 22, 2018

To the teen sitting on the step



I am approaching a four way intersection
on a summer weekday
Stop signs making traffic hitch and pause
As people wonder what the rule is for who goes first
You are sitting on the step of the house
at the corner
Dressed in all black
black shoes
black socks
black shorts
black shirt
dark hair
Your arms are wrapped around your knees
Chin hiding behind your forearms
Your head moves slightly with each car passing
I turn my gaze back to the traffic
I wonder what is going on
Did you not take the garbage out when asked?
Is he drinking already (it’s two in the afternoon)?
Did she end it with a text message?
Or were you told, again, how worthless you are?
I am now in the stop sign queue
four cars to go
Debating if I should turn to look at you
Now that I am almost parallel to you
I recognize the body language
closed
feet tapping
caged
yet afraid to run
I chance it
our eyes meet
I can see the red highlights around your eyes
Feel the hate expressed through the
    “What are you looking at?” expression
We break our glance at the same time
I feel guilty that I can’t change anything
    because I’ve sat there on my own step
I push the gas pedal down
crossing the intersection
Glancing into my review mirror
I see you are still sitting
Slowly becoming smaller as I  head to school
to be certified
By the Red Cross
to save a life.

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Nothing Lasts Forever


So they say that nothing lasts forever
But I’ve discovered that they are wrong
Our Pasts
Our Yesterdays
Will always be
    Every moment you had
    Piling up like stones
    The weight breaks your collar bones
    Cracks in your heart from every lie you told

The past is forever
    Photos
        And social media posts
    Memories
        And letters in shoe boxes
All have ramifications for the present
The past filters our vision better than Instagram
 It dictates what future we can walk
    It predicts our scraped knees
        And ruined relationships

Because they say nothing lasts forever
But they are wrong
 The past is resistant
even to the end of the world

For my future is not guaranteed
    I don’t even know when my last breath will be
But the words I’ve spoken are now a part of our history...

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

And we are running red lights



And we are running red lights

Rushing through morning traffic
    unaware of the cars
        waiting to turn

Rushing on speed control
    so that we can spend our time
        on a screen posting filtered memories
            that we only recall when notified

We are running red lights

From jobs to frozen microwave dinners
    and children that say everything was fine at school today
        while never looking up from a screen that alerts them
            three years ago you shared a picture of the two of you
            standing by a lake
                tiny fish in both your hands
                eyes bright

But we continue to run red lights
    too busy rushing to lives that only glow
        when we touch a screen