These Are All Of The Things I Never Got To Say


We parted ways
At the center clock
With small embraces
And mumbled exchanges
Sauntering to our numbered platforms
Looking back for a moment
Reluctant yet relieved.

As I stepped onto my train
Whisked away back again
To a sleepy one horse town
I began to wonder
About all the things
I never asked
And all the things
I never said:

Was he closer to his father
Or his mother?
Was he scared of being swallowed whole
In a school of 30,000
Or would he navigate gracefully
Through the crowds of people
Trying their best to make sense of it all
Just like him?

Even though he swears
He’s not a messy eater
How many times a day
Does he stain
His baby blue button down
With mint chocolate chip ice cream?

Does he watch them
Splash around
Darting his eyes
From left to right
For the money
Or something
And bigger
Than all of us?

Why finance?
Does it make his heart sing,
Or does it make his head hurt;
Would he ever consider Wall Street?

What goes on
In that beautiful mind
As he sits quietly in a corner
With an empty beer can in hand
Waiting for someone to notice him?

Did he know
He was the first time
I looked at novelty
With eagerness;
Something other than spite?

And lastly,
Did he know
On the subway ride home
Back to 42nd
Where I discovered
That the crook of his arm
Was a place I fit perfectly
That this was the last time?

Did he know
It was the end
To something
That had not yet begun
Something waiting to happen
For ninety-seven long days

Or does he too,
About all the things
He never said?