Bridey O'Connor
A Boy
There's a boy looking at the stars every night.
Sometimes he cries.
When I ask him why he tells me
"I just want to go home."
He's so beautiful.
He never looks at me.
There's a boy who sits on the fire escape by my apartment.
Chain smoking while looking at the ground.
I ask him why he looks down.
He tells me
"Nothing matters this high up."
He's so sad.
He gazes at the metal near my shoes.
There's a boy on the street corner handing out smiles for free.
Hair full of flowers and love dripping through his fingers like water.
I ask why he's so kind in a rude world
He tells me
"No one smiled at me when it got bad."
He's so soft.
He looks right through me.
There's a boy sitting on the curb near my building.
His face is littered with bruises and cuts.
I sit down next to him and pull him close.
I don't ask for a reason.
He tells me one anyway.
I shush him gently, kissing his cheek.
He's messed up but still so pretty.
He grabs my hand and we watch the lights change as the cars drive by slowly.
The rain starts and he looks at me.
There's a boy looking at the stars every night.
Sometimes he cries.
When I ask him why he tells me
"I just want to go home."
He's so beautiful.
He never looks at me.
There's a boy who sits on the fire escape by my apartment.
Chain smoking while looking at the ground.
I ask him why he looks down.
He tells me
"Nothing matters this high up."
He's so sad.
He gazes at the metal near my shoes.
There's a boy on the street corner handing out smiles for free.
Hair full of flowers and love dripping through his fingers like water.
I ask why he's so kind in a rude world
He tells me
"No one smiled at me when it got bad."
He's so soft.
He looks right through me.
There's a boy sitting on the curb near my building.
His face is littered with bruises and cuts.
I sit down next to him and pull him close.
I don't ask for a reason.
He tells me one anyway.
I shush him gently, kissing his cheek.
He's messed up but still so pretty.
He grabs my hand and we watch the lights change as the cars drive by slowly.
The rain starts and he looks at me.
You kissed me
and I tasted blood on your lips
skin broken from metal
or a fist
I couldn't tell the difference
between the red of blood
and the red of the night.
The stars laughed at us,
high above the alleyway
swirling and dancing and laughing,
laughing at our foolishness
at our simple minds and simple lives.
You drank wine like water,
playing at being a god among men.
I whispered my darkest secret to you
across our pillow late at night
when you were sleeping.
Gods don't look nearly as beautiful
as you did that night.
The stars above cried with me
when you left us.
Street lights became oceans,
and I was drowning in them.
You kissed me
and I tasted blood on your lips.
I look up at the stars
And feel infinitely small
But also at home
At the same time.
The stars wink at me,
Whispering softly for me to join them
I feel torn when I have to turn away,
And tell them that now isn't the time.
One day,
I'll float among them.
Everything feels like
A slightly out of focus camera,
Soft and blurry around the edges.
I wander the streets at night,
Neon lights flashing at me
Enticing me to step inside
And warm my hands around a cigarette
I turn my head to the ground
And keep walking.
Maybe another time.
I stand at a crosswalk by a busy road
Watching the cars drive by.
I wonder what it's like to be them,
The people in the cars.
I wonder what would happen if I step into the road,
If someone will stop
Or if I caught them in a moment of inattention
Causing them to hit me.
The asphalt of the road looks soft sometimes,
Begging me to lay down.
The light turns red and I cross the street.
Today isn't my day.
I light a cigarette in the shade of a pine tree.
Through the branches I can see the stars,
Lit up bright like distant Christmas lights.
As the smoke fills my mouth
I wish I could fly to those lights,
Maybe even leave my body behind
And just be,
Floating in space between the stars.
The smoke leaves my lips and I turn away,
Knowing that it's not going to happen
And that the stars will always be calling
Out for me.
I kill the cigarette
And wish again to fly.
Maybe then I wouldn't be so lonely.