I’m not sure where I’m at.
I’ve been saying that since forever now.
It’s becoming cliche.
I’m becoming a cliche.
Bunch of cliches.
Sensitive but yet insensitive.
Sally- Have you heard?
Johnny- No. What.
Sally- That I’m leaving.
Johnny- Oh.*Short Pause*When?
Sally- Monday night.
Johnny- That fast huh.
Johnny- Must be nice. To have a new place. New job. New boy. New life.
Sally- Yeah, it is. This is it for me. My life is finally where its suppose to be.
Johnny- Yeah? I’m happy to hear that. Yeah. Um I’m happy for you. Everything you ever wanted. *Beats* Well, good luck with everything. Tell Wren I said hi. And he better make you happy because if he don’t, I’m gonna run after him.
Johnny- Um, I got to go. Lovely chat. Uh I’ll see you whenever you get back. Have a good life Sally.
I heard him cried last night over the phone.
He confessed about all the things he did.
I didn’t want to believe it. But it happened.
I didn’t know how to respond to it.
I just simply say nothing.
After awhile, he pleaded me to give him something, say something, he’ll even take the yelling and name calling.
There was nothing to say.
Then don’t treat me like a puppet.
He wrote me a letter.
It was about six pages long.Front and back.
He wrote it in a small print.
And in the letter,
He told me how he had suffered through insanity.
That he was seeing things. People. Dead people.
You see, he was in the Cold War.
It wasn’t a life or death experience for him. He didn’t had a choice. It was hell. He nearly tasted death.
He told me about one of his comrade. How Pete had saved his life.
Supposedly, Pete took a grenade for him. And how he witnessed Pete’s body explodes into pieces.
He told me how he couldn’t sleep anymore. At least, not how he used to.
I could tell he have been smoking. There were a couple of cigarettes burn on the paper. I guess he didn’t notice or didn’t care.
I could tell that he lost it. The joy of living. Life. He don’t know much of anything more. Everything he knows got destroy in the war.
He told me he needed help. Something to bring him back. He said I was the only friend he has left. Though I haven’t seen him in years.
And honestly, I’m not sure if I can save him.
Because I was in the war too. So I understand what he’s going through.
And I’m trying to save myself before I save anyone else’s.
Soliloquy of a living dead
Am I the only one who’s not allow to hurt?
It’s okay when I get put down
Lashed, ragged, scarred
And that’s okay right?
Because it’s me you’re hurting
When I try to defend myself
It’s my fault
Am I the only one who’s not allow to be happy?
It’s not okay for me to feel happiness?
Then what am I allow. Tell me.
You’re not protecting me when you’re the one who’s hurting me
Oh my god. You are so fucking cute, you know that? I bet ya don't.