I wouldn’t say I’m doing well now. Well, I guess I’m doing well enough.
And this one.
—St. Vincent Charity
Signals Midwest- St. Vincent Charity
You were easier to meet than to get to know. An unwavering smile gave way
to something twisted, dark and foreign. And when I would call, you were
never home. Maybe I could have prevented something or had some influence.
But when you called me from the hospital, I recognized your voice but I
didn’t understand it at all. You said you were sorry but you didn’t say
what for. And that you wished we could have been friends in real life, but
that night reality never hit harder. Whitewashed eyes dimly reflecting a
fluorescent glow. You laid still while I was tearing up the floorboards.
There in the dimming lights and the peeling labels, clusters of couches and
coffee tables. A weakened sun splits a stagnant sky and the church doors
open. The bed they made you at St. Vincent held a body’s warmth and a heart
stretched distant, out past the shoreways and into the hands of the ones we
love but leave alone. I wish I could know what you’re thinking. Your
silence, it speaks volumes.
I’ve been so obsessed with this song lately.