After a great catastrophe hits home, like a fire or a tornado, you search through the wreckage to find pieces that can still be saved.

If anything is salvageable, you might as well take it. This was your home after all.

Finding old pictures, supplies, things of sentimental value, anything that reminds you of home before it was destroyed.

So what if your home is built upon people?

When catastrophe strikes, people might run away, give up, and sometimes they die. Not always, but sometimes they will.

I was part of the wreckage of my home made of people.
But I was also the disaster that tore it down.

Leaving people in pain, with traumatic break downs, panic attacks, and a lesson in language only known as ******.

Nobody died.

People were saved. I know of three in particular who found each other and survived.

But it left two others broken apart, one confused, and one completely homeless.

And as for me...

I survived like the rest. But unlike most of them, I didn't recover.
They didn't bother to search through the damaged home to find me.
There was no monetary value to my life, no point, no sentimental value to them.

And I just lay there to this day.

And to the person I hurt most...

You know who you are...

You left me in that home, the one you invited me into and cared for me as if I was family and now...

I'm here.

Buried under the catastrophe.

And I'm sorry I tore the house down.

I'm sorry I wasn't worth going back to the house to find and salvage.

I'm sorry I wasn't worth saving.

It's currently 3:47am and my window is open.

Which means the birds are now becoming nature's alarm clock. And that is just a wake up call that I did not ask for.

The birds just keep singing and here I am typing this on an iPod that doesn't even belong to me.

Hating the constant chirping of winged animals while I've been here watching Grey's Anatomy for hours on end. So I guess I am just a huge ***** for staying up late watching doctor shows.

I'm not even sure if this is a poem.

I'm just sick of the birds and feeling terrible for things I did late at night.

If this was any other day..

I would have already shut off my alarm clock.

Or just shout at the birds I guess.

I've had a series of dreams where things went differently then they did in real life.

Where nobody left.
And nobody was hurt.

One dream in particular keeps coming back, the one where nothing really makes sense, but it makes me feel better sometimes.

I remember running, and she was beside me.

But I immediately knew it was a dream because she was taller than me.

She's never been taller than me. And here I am...

Running beside a 5 foot 8 version of my once best friend.

What?!

This dream is so weird.. and yet it feels so normal.
She's never had to look down to see me.
Heck, she's never had a reason to look up to me either.
For height eye contact or otherwise.

And somehow this dream follows me, her, and her significant other into a building.

I'm in a hallway saying that I'm on my way to a specific room.
She says she'll follow me there.

For some reason, because this is a dream, I go to a completely different room, a shop actually.

Woodshop. Like the one I went to at school.

I don't even know what I'm doing there, I'm not sanding or doing any work, they are. I don't know what they're doing, I'm watching this alternate version of a person just...

Exist.

And suddenly she cuts her hand on a saw blade. Much like I have in shop class.

I don't panic, I grab paper towel, and start wrapping her hand.
She's gonna be fine.

She's gonna be fine..

There's no dialogue, nobody says anything, I'm just taking care of someone I care about.

This dream is just playing out.



I wake up...

I feel content and somewhat happy for a second.

But then I remember I was dreaming.

I was dreaming...

And that's okay.

But I return to a reality where none of that happened.
And I suddenly feel the utopic dream leave me.

I can't even remember most of the dream, and this is all I have.

This isn't the first time I've woken up from a better dream life to find that I'm here.

But I do need to realize that I'm here.

Despite everything.

Whether or not it's also over...


Is not up to me.

I'm never going to be ready.
Another day or month is never going to be enough time to get ready for this.

But if I wait, I will be waiting for the rest of my life.
Or just until the summer washes away.

Okay...

I'm sorry,
I'm sorry,

Please don't leave me.

But if you do...

I guess I should've tried reaching a long time ago.

But I'm here now.

...I'm here now.

No matter what happens here..

I'm not dying today.

She was there.

7:25pm

I'm out with some friends., we find a spot on a hill, I know some of the people, I don't know some of the people.

I'm there having a good time. Trying to make conversation, not seeming like a complete loner loser.

I make due with what social skills I have left.

10:45pm

The fireworks have started, sparks of colour fill the sky and loud exploding noises fill my ears.

It's so dark out.
I watched the sunset not too long ago...

The sounds, the exploding bursts of shimmer and shine.

The fireworks are so vibrant, so alive...
I don't feel scared to die right now...

Maybe I should, but I don't.

11:30pm

I found my car and the parking lot is filled with people trying to get out. I grab a map and sit on the trunk of my car as I wait for an opening.

The night is calm if you don't pay mind to the drivers.
And I don't, I just stare at the map, searching for a way home.

12:30am

I made it home about 10 minutes ago and I'm not tired yet.
I make myself a cup of hot chocolate and sit at my computer watching episodes of an old sitcom from a time I didn't live in.

2:00am

I'm here.
Lying in my bed, next to nothing and no one.
It was only hours ago that I didn't feel so scared.
And now I'm here.

She wasn't there was she?
She couldn't have been...
If she was, I couldn't possibly have...

She was there.*

She was.

Our paths just missed each other.
Never crossing.

Just hours ago, I was watching fireworks.

And now I'm here.

Watching the darkness.