wrecking ball

I sat still, in a daze from the night before, relinquishing all power I ever had over myself and my counterparts.

"Are you alright?" Emilia stood over me with a look of genuine concern I hadn't seen since the accident. Besides the four walls of my hospital room, endless infomercials, and Emil's apartment, that's all there's been to see. Some people have it worse.

I'm great, I answer still staring off. I'm thirsty.

She turned around and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the puff of air as the refrigerator was opened. I heard the rummaging through leftovers and water bottles. I heard liquid filling a glass. I heard footsteps. I heard "Here you go," but did nothing to reach for the glass or acknowledge Em's courtesy. I heard the glass being set down on the coffee table. I heard more footsteps and a door close down the hallway. She's not mad, trust me.

I've been listening a lot lately. You know the saying 'You don't know what you have until you don't hear the foreman yell LOOKOUT! and get hit in the chest with a 2,400 pound wrecking ball'? Of course not.

The doctors said I was lucky to be alive. The physical therapists said I was lucky if I ever walk again. The lawyers said I'd be lucky if Workman's Comp pays my medical bills, I signed a waiver, I should have read it, I must be stupid. I heard them. I don't feel lucky. I don't feel stupid. I feel thirsty.

I reached for the sweating glass and lifted it to my lips. I tasted cold. I swear I never realized what potential I had until I met with death. It was a casual sit-down. He wore a collared Polo shirt. I was still in my work clothes. Death offered me water, I remember. Few words were spoken, just 'Hey,' and 'You shouldn't be here.' I emptied the glass and pressed my numb palms against the firm couch to aid in my standing. I succeeded and I was satisfied.

I stood, in a daze from the night before, relinquishing all understanding of how I got from my hospital bed to her apartment. It's a memory I'll have to recollect someday. But for now, I hear birds chirping and know I need sleep. I retire to the only place I know I'm wanted, and when I open her bedroom door I hear,

"Good morning."

tied and true

more often than not i'm caught
in a string of unbreakable knots
unfakable plots
leaving me deterred and endured
to the make-believers
the shake-relievers
the sake-deceivers
the everyman
so savvy-handed
i stay branded
to the differences
the anonymous dawn
never forgets the faces set aglow
the traces of the souls
set so far from your own
let live the critics
they make us greater
we heard the hate from their mouths
and watched it hit the ground
without a sound
blood stains the tiled castle floor
the king is furious with us
we pay him no mind
he owes us
oh yes