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Walking home from an evening's breakfast at Denny's
high on regret, alienation and the faint song of childhood.
I cross the railroad tracks and turn down the street she used to live on.
Snow begins to fall as I stand in front of the house,
staring into the past - into a mirage.
On the way back to the bus terminal
I notice a bunch of cars parked in front of my friend Sike Mike's.
The door is standing open sightly and I peek inside.
From the kitchen, Mike motions me over.
"What's up man? You gonna stay awhile?"
he asks draping a drunken arm around my neck.
"I'd like to but I gotta get up early," I lie,
eyeballing the six-packs on the counter.
"Gotcha bro. Hey, grab one for the road!"
"I'm gonna use your bathroom on the way out."
I tear off a can, shove it into my coat pocket
and weave my way back through the crowd.
I'm taking a piss with my eyes closed
when I hear the soft sounds of crying through the wall.
I notice the flicker of blue light from a television set
coming from a bedroom at the end of the hall.
I poke my head inside and see Mike's little brother Adam
sitting in the dark watching a movie,
arms wrapped tight around his knees.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Hi," he says, wiping tears from his eyes.
His father is a scarcely functioning alcoholic
and his mother shot herself last summer.
I can feel the sadness in him -
surrounding him.
A sadness bigger than I am,
bigger than any of us.
"Want to watch a movie?" he asks.
"Sure," I say and sit next down to him "What is it?"
"It's called The Perks of Being a Wallflower."
We watch the movie together
and as the credits fade we sit with our pain.
I look over at him.
"I'm sorry Adam."
The anger and confusion rises with the hurt
and I want to break something.
"I'm sorry," I repeat.
I head back into the living room
and everyone is having a good time
and I'm watching all their faces,
blind and paper thin
and no one notices
a damn thing.

20 Oct 13

Rated 10 (10) by 3 users.
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This poem, like you, has heart.
 — clupeidae

The climax of your poems always hit at the right time. You're a good man for having sat with that kid. Makes me damn sick to see how some kids grow up these days with no one to listen or even take the time trying. Great write man.
 — yield

Thank you yield and clupeidae, my friends :)
 — 9

i know 38-39.
27-28, i know a kid my daughters age whose father killed himself a few years ago and his mother just died a few months ago, from cancer. i just want to wrap my arms around him and make him meals and love on him. so i know those lines as well. his older brother who is married has custody of him and is a good guy so i'm thankful for that. but a lot of kids aren't that lucky. :(

paper thin faces. yup.
i thought you would end this with taking the beer can out of your pocket and throwing it against the garage door on the way out... or something. :)
 — mandolyn

Maybe I should break something.
But I can't be wasting perfectly good beer,
what would I hide from the women with?
Thanks for reading my lengthy things mandolyn.
 — 9

oh, GOOD beer, ok.
break a 'one direction' cd. :D
 — mandolyn

btw, i still don't see the treena poem or the 9 stanzas. get on your horse. :)
 — mandolyn

Do not ever. EVER tell a man to throw a can of good beer at anything. You hear me?
 — unknown

^ sorry. i will never do that again. i'm sorry. can i get you guys a cold one? sorry i screw up so much.
 — mandolyn

I'm trying to edit the psychiatrist/Treena thing down.
I don't want to post a novel. As soon as I can trim the beast, I'll put it up.
One Direction?
 — 9

^ it's an annoying boy band. all the teens are giggly over them.
at least e-mail me the non beast! i want to read the whole thing.
sometimes when you trim something that doesn't need to be trimmed
it becomes too skinny and dies of starvation. know what i mean?
 — mandolyn

i meant the fat beast, not non. don't make him go on a diet just yet!
 — mandolyn

Treena's bossy too.
 — 9

lol, sorry. :-/
 — mandolyn

I'll just put up the whole thing in 2 days,
then take it down again once you have read it.
 — 9

It's okay :) The difference is that she's not joking.
 — 9

deal. 2 days.

but are you afraid to e-mail me? or maybe you just don't do e-mail.
 — mandolyn

Oh leave the poor number alone. Maybe Treena checks his Emails and kicks him out when she finds him sending messages to other pretty girls.
 — unknown

 — unknown

Yes, but a little happiness too.
 — 9

Not so pretty girls. 9 being fond of girls. A lamp post in skirt will do.
 — unknown