A Letter To A Friend...
My cheshire, fleeting desire smile puts you on edge as I dance on the wire for myself and time that stands still. Magick spins the stars and cover you and all that you are. Tap on the stops of what it could have been, but what about where you began? Did you forget I was standing here waiting for you with my yellow and green pary bags with random party favors? I guess I just missed you as you faded by or maybe you closed your eyes to block out the world and me with it. I never wanted to be your perfection, just wanted you to see beauty in your reflection. You claim there's nothing there, no potential, it's not fair. But no one said it would be easy, but then no one thought we'd get this far or that's the song that was playing on the radio when we drove by the seven eleven with the lights burned out on the left side. Tapping on the steering wheel with you asleep in the passenger side as "Three AM" plays on the radio, it's by Matchbox 20 or at least I think so. It's three AM I must be lonely, but you're with me and the green-light numbers on the dash say 4:45 and the street lights flash because you know they don't work when it's that late or maybe it's early because it is morning and not night even though it's dark. Dark with the exception of the dim street lights that show the way to your house where I know you won't want to go in. And that's okay because I don't want you to have to because I know what awaits you on the other side of that dark mulberry door. Something I can't fight and you can't beat, something that no one else ever talks about and everyone pretends not to see. I pull into the drive and turn off the car and look at your sleeping face illuminated by pale moonlight that trickles through trees above. What I wouldn't give to help you fly away from tall that you struggle through, to be able to take your pain and put it away in a glass bottle so that when the light shines through it, a beautiful pattern will come from your suffering. But instead I have to wake you and let you leave with a forced half-smile and a promise to call if you need anything. After you've been swallowed by the darkened doorway, I turn my car on and pull back onto the silent empty street. My mind whirls, twirling thoughts of you in and out of twinkling colors of a late-night's misguided thought. The flashing lights blur before my eyes as "Black Balloon" plays on the radio. Wishing I could give you a black balloon that would make you fly above the rest of us and all your worries to a place where dreams can be touched and molded. But that's not realistic or I'd dance with the stars and make love to the night. But you know they took a guy out of church on a stretcher today and all I could see was the metal back and the yellow letters of "FIRE" on the emergency workers' jackets. And I wanted to feel bad but my mind thought of you through the cloud of tired thought that seemed to hang from last night's late ride after your frantic call. I wish I could always take you out like that, whenever he got mad, take you and drive. Maybe we could drive forever, counting trees and singing to the radio in my red jeep that is only four years younger than me. But I know that's not possible as I drive to the hospital listening to "Mad Season" on full blast to try and keep the thoughts from bouncing around inside my head. Looking at your bruised and broken body from the sterile doorway. The beep of various machines keeps pace with my pulsating heart. How did I let this get so far away from me? You'd always called me your guardian angel but I'd never protected you from anything or anyone and now I am suffering. And now I'm wondering how this letter got so far off track...