Sunday, February 12, 2017

For My Benz

I don't know what to tell you.

I don't know why you're upset.

But if you are, count me in.

If you are, tell me, and I will try and help.

I wish I could do more than try,

I wish I could fix these things.

And you have no idea what it's like to sit helplessly while someone else suffers.

Or maybe you do.

I wish I could stomp on the face of the person who hurt you.

I wish I could hug you and make everything better.

But I am cursed to a single form, understanding less of the world I thought I had figured out.

All I can do is rage at the rain until it stops.

Scream at the ceiling till it collapses.

And laugh at the stars until they stop shining.

If I had a wing, I would stretch it over you, shield you from the worst

If I could take your pain and make it my own, I would.

For you.

To me, no problem is too petty, which makes it even harder when it's not.

A quarter century isn't enough to comprehend what you are facing.

And if the collective consciousness of all loved, lived and dead has not figured out how to make it stop, what can I do?

But I am here.



And sometimes, when you're feeling low, remember that I care.

If it all becomes black and you can't find your way, you know where to find me.

I can't say I'm qualified to help, just qualified to care.

And maybe that's enough.

I know what it's like to struggle, but that doesn't mean I can tell you what to do.

Life is about the individual, and each journey is unique.

But we never are truly alone. At least, not for those of us who have someone.

Which is why all I can do is remind you that there's someone who cares.

It might not be a man in the sky, but a nerdy kid with a laptop.

And if that makes you feel better maybe I am worth something to this planet.

Maybe we are not alone.