You, old friend --
You look very French tonight,
Very tousled-chic and angular in your desperation.
And that haunted, broken heart running in your eyes,
Deeply tangible, so thick the bitterness clings to my tongue,
Saturates the air I breathe, burns my lungs . . .
Your pain reverberates in my own chest.
Tired, messy, and close to breaking down
With leaden feet struggling to flee the scene
And a dense, precious heart sinking rapidly --
Let me put your weary soul to bed tonight,
Ease your aching bones down.
So rest your head upon your pillow,
And I'll pull the blankets up to your chin,
Kiss you on the forehead,
Smooth the hair back from your eyes,
Even as your tears threaten to fall, my dear friend.
I'll squeeze your hand and tell you a story
Or hum you soft lullabies,
Anything to quiet your rapidly beating heart,
Ease the transition to sleep
From a chair beside your bed.
I'll stay by your bedside,
Whisper calming words if sleep haunts you;
I will help you through this tumultuous night's assault.
You, my friend,
Your usual strength crumbling,
Dissolving into tears,
Questioning yourself,
Shoulders sagging and shaking,
Jaw trembling, no longer even stubbornly jutting out,
Finally letting go, racked with sobs,
Are a temporary product of one very public failure.
Dear girl, my shoulders are here for you to cry on.
Let me wrap you up in a tight hug,
Grab your favorite Ben & Jerry's from the corner store,
Rent your favorite black and white,
And play with your hair in the television lights.
I'll grab your fuzzy slippers for you,
Draw you a bubble bath,
Warm a towel for you in the dryer,
Light your favorite candles,
Listen to your woes,
And cry with you.
We'll bust out the flannel pajamas,
Eat cookie dough from the bowl,
Even paint our nails.
And I'll crawl into bed beside you,
Scratch and your back 'til you fall asleep,
Be a sister, a friend, a mother when you need one.
And you, my furious, young friend,
You're wearing your insolent passion on your sleeve.
Angry and rebellious at your chastisement,
Neither of us verbalizes your hurt and humiliation.
So tonight you will pour liquor on your wounds to sterilize them,
And I'll party alongside you to keep an eye on you.
We'll let our hair down together,
Mosh under the lights,
And howl at the moon with a singular voice.
And later, I'll hold your head up
And rub your back as you let go of it all.
I'll stay with you through the night,
Listen to you howl a different kind of howl, if it comes to that,
Talk to you in soothing tones.
In the morning, I'll make you breakfast,
Have your sunglasses ready,
And nod in unspoken understanding that I won't bring this up later,
Because I know you needed this temporary bandage.
But whenever the wound starts gaping,
That one tear squeezes out, or the torrents come,
I will be prepared; I will be there
If only you can bite down on your pride to let me in.
I'll leave the light on while you continue to claw at hopes of the uninhibited life.
MUSIC: "Heaven Forbid" - The Fray
MOOD: Melancholy
LOCATION: the Hilton
