i remember a quiet kid
a soft-spoken young man
sitting by the door
as if waiting to escape
to drift like smoke into the
atmosphere
disperse unremarked
into the oblivion of years
no one knew him
least of all his mom
he liked it that way
life unfolded
sufficient unto the day
but, o!
sometimes he must have felt
lonely
lonely
or is that just
a neurotypical assumption?
maybe the world was grey
like prozac dreams
maybe the ocean’s roar
and maelstrom
filled his waking mind
maybe sleep eluded him
for endless days and nights
rat race wheels of nightmare
loops of disappointment
shunnings
taunts and snubs
where was the edge of the cliff
nobody saw?
lost in mists of preconception
preoccupation boredom
lack of caring
the rocks kicked
loose
kicked loose
began to tumble down
the Steep
rumbling avalanche
a crashing downpour
unstoppable now
did he wake up that day
just Knowing it was Time?
or were all the weapons loaded
placed lovingly in cases
awaiting their awful destiny
clean bright
and ready to serve
the sense of hand upon cold steel
no questions here
the ritual of preparation
oil and cloth and load
always the same
comforting and holy
like prayer
the sharp scent of striving
for something
unknown
even to himself
such a short journey
from idea to action
no time
for those who had never Seen him
to recognize his fell intent
no time
for the lovingly nurtured
butterflies
to fly away home
no time
for the last prayers of innocence
to pass the lips
of those whose breath
would not come forth again
and in the end
no time for him
whose story was never told
a boy whom no one knew
yet all will remember
the name
written in the indelible stains
of infant blood upon the floor
the empty beds unopened presents
unanswered calls
before the memory floods in
of all the uninhabited futures
to come
© 2012 pamela twining
