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Stairs
Michael Christianson
24 Jun 2004
So I went up the stairs, or was it really down? I can never tell once I get on them. Is it normal to forget what you're doing right in the middle of doing it? Some say I should get it looked at but I don't believe in doctors, just because they went to school for a long time doesn't necessarily mean they know what they are doing. So there I stood on the stairs, not knowing where I was going, and I didn't know where I had been. If I knew where I had been I would know where I was going because I sure as hell didn't want to go back there if I was leaving it. I sat down on the stairs because I felt dizzy. Last night I saw a man on the street, and everywhere I look I see his sad face staring back at me. This guy looked so sad and old, with no ring on his finger, I doubt he was never married, or he would look a lot happier; he probably just lost his wife, the love of his life. I'd never known love, but I look about the same as him, the extreme opposites, and we still felt the same. Like we were lost and alone, we needed someone, but he had someone, and I've never known that luxury. His face haunts me; all my friends know it and all of them use it. It's on their t-shirts, and posted up inside their lockers. I fear it, they know it. What if I died here on these stairs? Would my soul be confused of which way to go, up or down? Descend or ascend? I would die alone, with the stare of a man I never knew, on the stairs.
Just read it! I just write to flow my brain, now i have somewhere to put it all.
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