Adam: Spoken Word

Do you remember when we first met?

In kindergarten, on the playmat with the toys?

I don’t.  But I know at some point we met,

And we became good friends,

Because everyone in kindergarten is good friends.

And if you’re not, you’re seen as an outcast,

A freak.

Do you remember when we were in assembly together?

We had the same homeroom teacher and

 Parents were taking pictures of you,

Of us.  Your smile as bright as the sun

Radiating through the dark room and mine was,

Well, not so much of a smile as much of a

Thuggin “peace” face creased with coolness.

Do you remember when we were on the same baseball team?

By this time we had different friend groups,

You were naturally athletic and personable,

Tall, tan and handsome, at least that what the mothers would say.

And I was scrawny, borderline pudgy, and unathletic.

I only did it because my parents made me.

You could hit the ball and everyone cheered

While I missed it on the tee and struck out in no-out baseball.

My ADD kicked in and I would draw yellow sunflowers

In the brown dirt on second base, not paying attention to the ball that

Whizzed past my pale, unscathed face. 

Remember that time I switched schools,

And didn’t see you for five years?

You met my friend at a party and were snorting lines

Of medication from the bathroom. 

She thought you and you’re friends were “fucking stupid”

To take something you didn’t know what it was made of.

“Just turn up man, no need to go hardcore.”

Do you remember that time, when you disappeared?

No one knew what happened at first.

I heard it from another friend who was on Facebook

And everyone posted RIP on your wall.  They still do by the way,

In memoriam of the popular kid in high school.

Rumors spread; you were caught with weed by the police

And they brought you to your dad because he was a firefighter

And they knew him well so they thought they were doing what was best

Instead of locking you up in a cold cellar that would’ve taught you a lesson and let you sober up.

You fought with your dad, you would’ve been benched

From playing hockey, grounded, maybe a misdemeanor on your record.

 and your poor life was down the drain

So you took the ole shotgun and fired it into your mouth.

And I know you thought it was the end of the world.
Did I miss something?  Is it my call to make accounts of what happened?
I felt nothing at first, but then numb.  No pain, but questioning.
I questioned this every day.  You were popular, athletic, handsome.

But to be honest you didn't want to deal with the consequences, did you?
You were spoiled, you were selfish

You were fucking stupid to do that.

You took the easy way out. 

Now you don’t have to face your parents anger

Now you don’t have any stories to tell your friends

Now you don’t have to face any consequences.

But you didn’t think that people on this side of the fence would miss you?

What would you say to your family that cried every day after the funeral?

What would you say to your friends with the empty void in their life

And pictures plastered across the web?

A facebook page dedicated to your heroic suicide

That should have never been heroic nor a suicide.

And you leave me here wondering what’s worth taking your own life

Because I’ve thought about this many times

But you make it so easy, an alternate ending

To make yourself a sheep in wolf’s clothing.

And I’m sorry if I'm blaming you
if this is wrong, but it's still not the way to go.

I just want to know the story.

Just please answer me.  Why?

Do you remember when we first met?

In kindergarten, on the playmat with the toys?

I think we had the same homeroom teacher

Or played at recess on the slide and swings.

I don’t.  But I wish I did.  I hope you did.