Poem: Connection


When I finally got the courage to look, she was pressed against the bench.

Her flesh had become the color of wood, and was now disappearing.

I knew my brain had been altered by drugs from the past,

but I never considered myself unable to

control my mind.

I wanted to ask someone around me if they noticed anything,

but no one would make eye contact with me. 

It’s not easy being a person with many needs in an unforgiving world.

Her lack of being drew me to her where she sat. 

She had unnerved me, but still I searched in between the slats for her.

She could’ve been stuck or might have fallen through.

I sniffed the air.  She was definitely gone.

Her absence hadn’t taken my problems away.

In fact, they were sitting on the bench she once sat, begging me to pick them up.

They must’ve fallen when I bent over. 

They eventually would find their way back to me so best to pick them up now.

I shuffled back, past the bench I sat, and made my way to the door.

This is when I saw her again. 

She was in different clothes now, less gloomy and more colorful.

I wiped my eyes with my finger to see if she was really there.

She was still there. 

I closed my eyes for a few seconds and when I opened them,

she was no longer there.

I wasn’t so confident in this vision anymore.

I could’ve created it to combat my loneliness for being an outsider.

I wanted connection, but I wasn’t willing to lose myself in the process.

As my body braced for the change in temperature, for a brief moment, I wondered

if she was an angel.



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