Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Selfish

yeah,
i feel selfish when i think about sept.

people lost thier loved ones.
taken.
stolen.
a sentiment that haunted or crushed them.
those without peace, still.
so to answer the question,
i remember where i was,
you were in scotland,
you were flying in that day
back to san francisco.

i remember worrying,
about how you
explained me,
to family,
to the scottish,
remembering your mother
doubted.
heavily.

if only that simple.
i was heading for work,
i had just gotten on the 51
when the driver,
mentioned an
attack.

not understanding until i got to work,
and then the day kinda stood still
the only thing existing was the
permanent loop
on
a screen.

the same images
over
and over.

the whole world condenced.
into a permanent loop.
i thought about you.
and tried hard to know.
not to guess, but to know,
i called your dad,
i called people who didn't like me,
i crossed that embarrassing line of privacy to
know.

i looked for you. to know.
but what was that
in comparision to them...

i have no right to comapare...

your father,
he fianally got around to calling me.
letting me know you were safe.
selfish, in that relief.
selfish in that comfort.

i fianally heard from you by email.
i felt embarrassed and selfish by
the little things, the petty things...
like you believing your father contacted me,
of his own accord, volution, heart.

i wanted you to know,
that i looked for you.

You came back a week later, you came back diffrent.
It was in your eyes.
It didn't have a name, but i knew things were diffrent.
the whole country re evaluated,
left alone together with
what was important.
alone with
the gravity of life.

for a short span, nobody gave a fuck about the superfical, the mindless, the guilded.
nobody gave a fuck....

i cant blame you for re evaulating as well,
re inventing a life, without me.

I take a slight comfort in you delaying the inevitable for as long as you did.
Marriage,
Mistake.
Mirage,


I feel selfish when i think about sept.
because those people
over there, truely
lost loved ones.
taken.
stolen.
they truely lost them,
whereas you are around,
somewhere,
alive,
maybe nobodys wife,
and yet i still mourn
you,
reading that email from that day,
kept for six years in my inbox.
instead of healing,
selfishly.

07'

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