Friday, April 15, 2011

Condolences (an epilogue)

I often held onto you
when you cried, no matter
how often you pushed me away.

It was never about the rent,
when your roommates let you down

It was never about your father, or
his constant disappointment
in you

It was never about your pet crayfish,
his health and happiness questionable
at best
(cause who really knows
or ever asked how a crayfish feels?)

It was always about your mother

When you cried, all those ripples centered
around your mother, and how she died when
you were only thirteen years old.

I never really knew anyone with such tragedy
in their lives, never really saw them cry as
constant reminders plagued them, never
really tried to console what could never
be consoled.
maybe I wasn't
saying the right things, maybe I wasn't
holding you tight enough, maybe I wasn't
caressing your cheeks soft enough, maybe, maybe,

When we took that trip with
your family to Disney Land,
another constant reminder,
you broke down in the
gift shop after Splash
Mountain, a ride you
always went on as a kid.

The attendant tried to console you
without ever knowing what it was
exactly he was consoling you for,
offering you discounts at the park's
photo center.

When I think about that
moment, all those tears for your
dead mother, I think that you
really never can be consoled.

And, when I think about those
discounted photos that seemed to
stop those tears, I think that
maybe you never want to be.

1 comment:

joe said...

Fuck. Yeah.