i didn't understand half the words he said and i don't understand half the words you write
michael jackson and waylon jennings wrapped in a paper towel "papa would be proud of you" scratched in the back of a children's book
it's the oddest thing to no longer miss someone who's been gone so long
an odder thing to sit in silence on your bed with the fitted sheet all pulled off the side next to the wall feeling your best friend's little sister's scratchy blue nylon mattress rub up against your sore feet
and open card after card after card filled with glittering words of praise and monetary gifts
and then read about all the things about you that people think are worthy of mentioning and you start to see a pattern
"thank you for serving" "humor" "creativity" "imagination" "let God lead you" "keep rapping"
(thank you and by the way i don't rap only occasionally slam)
it starts to feel like a bulletpoint hallmark eulogy like you've left your body and are reading about someone else reviewing all the better more visible parts of yourself the parts deemed loud enough to be acknowledged.
and you start to see what's lurking off the edge of the card and the words they didn't write the places that you went wrong
the question marks behind their eyes wondering why they haven't seen you for two months why your hair is a different color why someone else is in your seat
and the semicolons in your stomach when you realize that you've made a mistake and even with all the hurts caused you've still got a family out there.
i'll say this when it comes to graduations and funerals you find out who your friends are
the people who matter will show up in the end.
am i mislead in thinking that sometimes people don't say everything they think or feel until it's too late because it takes a loss to make them realize?