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Personal Note:

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Poem

there was life on the other
side of the wall (this s/he
knew for sure)…could feel
the bass pounding through,
could hear the laughs & 
the loud drunken profanity,
could sense the youth in the
air, the late night abstraction
& immediate gratification
of a weeknight, when responsibility
was of little concern because
“consequence” was a word
that they didn’t care to spell.

how s/he came to be on the
side of the wall s/he is on, s/he
can’t even remember---certainly
there had been a time when
s/he had been in their shoes?
certainly there had been a time 
when s/he had done without
thinking, when s/he had acted
first & asked questioned (or
answered them) later? 
still, the mind was so selective
in these instances & the 
concept of “fun” in the past
seemed to fade like the flame
from the dying match s/he
used to light her/his Autumn
scented candles around the
apartment.

the life on the other side
made her/him feel uncomfortable
because s/he knew that such
life was all behind her/him &
to confront such a pulse that 
acts so honestly naïve, so 
seize the day, so aggressive in
its narcissism & lack of
self-awareness, it struck a nerve,
it made her/him shake, it made
her/him pop the pills, it made
her/him wish for 
death quietly at night
as the party raged on.

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