Playbill Hero

It’s dead, competing with a sorrel
house, the mothered Earth had plans
and dandelions rule the spring.

I waited outside that night, looking
at her bedroom window after clearing the

Her body in repose in her single twin bed.

I scrawled a note in the snow,
hoping she would remember my touch, my heart;
my sadness seeping and bleeding all
over the silent crystals.

I heard nothing; 20 years later and I still

It was effort I made without response;
clearing her car, waiting for her return.

Being young
and stupid is painful.

Her voice
never sounded the same to me
again after that year.

The summer
ate a huge chunk of my compassion.

I wilted with the weeds of everlasting
when I realized that love can die,
and she moved towards the next
life like I was the afterthought on
a playbill.

I was once in the lead role, and then
teenage hormones were
replaced by logic. Fuck me.


~ by Shawn M. Young on April 18, 2016.

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