i knew you once. you were happy
painting flowers and singing
songs quietly to yourself. even while
hunched over a dirty table with
dirty fingernails, whiskey on your
breath. a thread of happiness was woven
into your face, your gestures, the glint
in your half closed eyes. and i knew you
then, i knew everything about you, even
that which you wanted to hide. you could
not keep it from me even while displaying
your misery through empty bottles, cigarette
butts, the shaky hands you used to write
poetry because i knew you once and you
were happy.

but
you didn't have to go and die because of it.

05/20/2003

Author's Note: not death in the literal sense.

Posted on 05/21/2003
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