I am in an interview and everyone wants to know
why? why write? why omit? why publish?
why self-publish? why do anything at all?
I am at a wedding and everyone wants to know
what my book is about,
how about you buy it and read it
getting the better of me.
I am at retirement party and everyone tells me
I saw you on TV. How’s the little girl?
You’re a hero.
I roll my eyes,
grateful to have survived at all. Drink up.
I wouldn’t be here if time held me hostage.
I am at a staff meeting
and everyone wants to know
how did I save that boy in 1999 with an EpiPen shot.
I am at the movie theater
I tell my daughter,
hide me from my ex-boyfriend.
I am at Starbucks flirting with a twenty-year old
I could be mid-thirties
so I nod my head, quick smile.
I am at the red light,
I wonder why being alive
has to hurt so much.
I wonder why I liked you in the first place
when I cannot stand you now.
And no, it is not a song lyric,
it is my poem.