solace as i stared at the crying figure that once was my friend, i felt her uneasiness as if it were my own. emotions washed over and through me like a desolate canal as my eyes intently stared at her. her hands clutched together holding whatever it was she was holding by her beautiful, beautiful side. i walked over to her slowly - to console her? i don't know. she was crying desperately by this time, and i felt a sort of sorry welling up within me. i felt like crying myself. not for me. not for her. for somebody. but i don't know who. slowly, she began to look at me and her lips formed unspoken words. if it was sorry, i could not tell. from where i stood - right behind her sobbing body - i could still not see what it was she was holding. as she raised her clenched hands towards me, still holding that one object, i grew scared. not for me. not for her. for somebody? no. for nobody. that was why it happened in the first place. all i saw in the darkly lit room was the tear of her cheek falling and falling like a graceful swan drop to the water and i remember it never hit the ground. i see darkness and i hurt for the rest of eternity. and for the first time since i could see, i saw clearly and felt shame. not for her. never for her. for me. i was pathetic and lovely and if i could stop and think i would have because i have the rest of time to think about why she did that and why i am dead. Written May, 1997