friends in low places

[larouxe]

and I live in the brevity of constantly being late
the brevity
the brevity
saturday was all oohs and ahhs and oh gods and hail mary's
I was not aware
I was not present
I was gone
was somewhere else
was absent for the whole thing
and still have no idea what went on
saturday was full of friends
filled with voices
of those who love me
and all but one got it
all but one seemed to understand
the most important one
my mother
was lost
was hurt
was left out of the clue that would clue her in

and how do you measure success?
with yardstick or lampost or light trick
how do you measure success
by those that showed
or those that chose
to with hold their support
should I be sad about the ones I wanted so badly to be there
who decided they could care less?
or should I be overjoyed at the ones who showed
who I was surprised even cared?

I'm still processing, you see
I'm still trying to take it all in
and the furhter away it gets
the harder it is to figure out
what exactly went on
what exactly happened that night
to me
to all of us
what changed
something changed
and I can't figure out if it was for the better
lord knows
I can only hope
that all was changed for the better

What on earth was I thinking
letting all these people know
these un heard of
un challenged things about me
it's my mother's voice
not mine
that echos in my head
as I think back
with wonder
still not knowing
exactly what went on
exactly what happened
to me
to us
to them