Thursday, 05 March 2009

• Lynn

  6.19.04

  My Memories of Lynn

   

  My memories of her

  Seem now like a film,

  Like something I watched

  On Lifetime TV,

  Television for women,

  Movies about girls

  Like her.

   

  I see her standing there

  Beside a cracked bathroom mirror

  While I cried for a boy

  I never should have loved.

  And she loved him too,

  But she loved me more,

  And she turned away for love.

   

  She wore a lacy green dress

  To my party.

  The song, "Julie,"

  Like her older sister's name…

  The song hangs inside me now.

  It was her song that night,

  And she was beautiful.

   

  A fireball and a flirt,

  She slit her wrists and fought her life.

  I begged her to live.

  Live, Lynn.  I want you to live.

   

  She wrote.

  We both wrote

  Dark poetry…

  And somehow survived.

   

  Lynn, the last time I saw her,

  Was smiling.

  She was the same

  Sharp tongued ball of existence.

  She was real.

   

  But now she is an image,

  A foggy hologram

  That dances before me

  As I try to grasp the facts –

  The concrete person.

   

  Lynn, I want you to always live.

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