excuse my absence

this is just to say

i haven't forgotten this

i haven't forgotten us

i just have the sounds

of wise children in my ear

asking more than

children around me

ever did

about bright futures

and drawbacks of my job

and books

and deeper meanings

and laughter

the good kind of laughter

that doesn't get caught 

in your throat

the shared laughter

where you have to

hide the sound of it

with your hand 

over your mouth

and you end up 

sounding like 

ernie from sesame street

which delights 

the children more

even though

they don't know why

laughter

the forgotten sound 

in memory

of a time

when all was protected

and nothing was lost

(ago)

if only

if only

i could speak 

the way he understands

if only 

i could help

the way he needs

if only 

i could be cool

when he wants

be sweet

when he needs

be helpful

when he's down

all at once

if only i could be 

normal

for him

then i would be

of some use

instead of 

the useless

that's me

(be)

pause

it's the rain

and the worry

that makes me this tense

and yet

i can't show it

because i'm supposed to be Leader

so i breathe

a lot

walk around

and check on people

and 

for one brief moment

i'm calm

designing colorful promos

that someone may not want

or care about

but it's an exercise of the mind

for me

a chance to pause 

the anxiety

(brum)

and control at least

a small part

of my existence

(even if it's futile)

let me sneak 

these few words out

into the internet

and forget

who i have to be

in a search 

of what 

i want to be

(flee)

the meeting (placeholder)

 "Ah. The Beatles. How trivial."

"I would have sung the Turtles except I don't think anybody knows them anymore."

He raises his eyebrows. 

"No, but really... I guess they do because of that one Naked Gun movie but maybe not because who sits there listening to '60s music because all the time it's '70s music now and even then it's only disco and and even then the radio wants to play all the cover versions and that totally messes up everything."

"Did you just say that all in one breath?"

"Yes."

She shrugs and turns away.

"An impressive feat."

"Thanks."

She mimics his flat tone. 

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes. My brother's talked about you."

"Saying only the kindest things, of course."

"Yeah. We'll go with that."

She starts whistling 'Do You Know What I Know" even though it's not Christmas. 

"Perhaps you could tell me who you are."

"I'd rather not. You've already insulted my musical taste. That's a red flag right there."

He smirks slightly. 

"Plus you've been cowering over me like The Shadow knows and that's just creepy."

"You're too young to know The Shadow."

"You mean I'm not emo enough? I'm all in black after all. You almost ran into me. Next time I'll carry a flashlight like a detective... a detective that dresses like you."

He looks down, curiously.  His suit was of the finest blend, and his grey tie matched perfectly. There was no way at all that he looked like anyone from a Dashiell Hammett story. 

"I'd look out of place in a Dashiell Hammett mystery."

"Well you certainly aren't Nick Charles, much less Humphrey Bogart."

He stared at her, wide eyed. Who was this person? 

"What? I was raised by my grandparents. I can't help that. Well maybe I don't want to help that. Sometimes I want to help that. There were some days that I really wanted to help that... but that day isn't today."

She looks at him.

"Sorry. I'm the Queen of Overshare."

"I was beginning to recognize that." 

"Are you reading out of a dictionary?" 

"No."

"Darn."

This conversation was not going the way he wanted it to. 

"This conversation isn't going the way you wanted it to, is it?"

"No."

"Is it at least a little fun for you?"

"Yes."

"Well good. I got that going for me, anyway."

And all was well and good, until her brother came in and dragged her away, glaring at him over his shoulder.

No Blue Doritos

"Get off of me!"

She pushes him away, half in gentle jest, half in anger.

"I'm sorry!" he yodels, half in wild jest, half in frustration.

"You can't have at me to purge her lasting memory."

"Oh my God, would you stop with the poetics? You're not even that good of a poet. Nothing you have rhymes, and it all looks too tumblry."

"Tha-a-a-a-nks!"

She turns away, staring off in the distance. Hoping to transport her whole self into the distance. Far.

"No, but seriously, I'm sorry. I don't know why I...."

"I know why. It's because I was nice to you, with comforting tones like Melissa, with a hug like Melissa. Hell, if you squint I sort of look like Melissa... sort of."

"Well, you are cousins, after all."

"Stop reminding me."

"Oh my God! How can you say that? Melissa's...."

He pauses, paralyzed by his incredulousness and eagerness to defend.

"I know, I know."

"But I can't stay in love with her. She.... doesn't want me. I'm too young for her."

She snorts.

"Shut up!"

He shoves her slightly. 

"But probably she's right. Maybe that's why I love her... because she's... older."

She turns around, shaking her head.

"Nope."

"Yep."

"NoPe."

"Yep."

"NOPE!"

"Look, you can yell all you want, it's not going to help. Unless you get laryngitis, which would help my ears, mostly."

He looks down, giggling silently. Her wit is quick, and unexpected, even in the dark times. If he could, he would like her, but her family was way too protective, especially after the incident. 

"You can yell, and rant all you want, but you love Melissa. Not because of her age, but because of her. She's artistic, and kind, and funny, and good, and perceptive... all things that could come with age, but most times don't because there has to be a balance of help and positivity and realism, and Melissa's got it."

He bows his head, silently nodding.

"Melissa, not me."

He looks up quickly.

"I am sorry."

"It's ok. I know you. I don't want to know you, but I know you. You know?"

They both laugh.

As he walks away, she breathes a short sigh of relief. She's learned long ago to placate, and use humor to deflect. The fact that this time-earned lesson worked again should make her feel powerful, but instead it darkens her vision. When can she find someone to be real with? Why is Melissa throwing out the perfect man? Why is everyone in a disarray, when they should be celebrating love?

"There's Doritos in the cupboard." 

"Nice."

He knows food won't help, but he appreciates the fact that she has shared her favorite food with him. That is, until he opens the cupboard.

"All that's left is ranch, though."

He smiles slightly, and closes the cupboard. No heartbreak is worth blue Doritos.

 

 

remember when

remember when 

you whispered

with your glance

gently over me?

remember when

you glared

with your voice

loud around me?

remember when

all i did or said

didn't matter

when your face turned red?

remember when

all i could ever be

was not me

and that would be

never enough?

(i do)

things i'm learning today

rejoice in the good

without sharing an idea

(ideas send the message

that you don't see 

the good news

as just good news

and puts pressure 

on the person 

who just wanted 

to share good news, 

for chrissakes,

so quit it already)

you shouldn't worry when

someone is stimming

(stimming is a helpful way

to cope with stress, and 

you should only stop someone

from stimming if it's harmful

to themselves or others)

don't tell a grandmother

that their grandchild needs 

to go to the restroom

(just have a mop handy)

don't worry about

what's a poem

or what isn't 

(just let it out 

all you can, 

and hope for relief 

and/or peace)

stop caring so much

(really)

hope this helps