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.