Epiphanies, poetry

Rebirth of the Anecdote

 

Photo by tattoostage.com

Photo by tattoostage.com

Found you–
under the depths of buried content, after 600 attempts, when most would have given up on 10,
hiding behind your real name, after years of maintaining a pseudonym,
should have searched with the words taped on your front door,
but even I forgot what you originally stood for.

Thought I’d find you inconsolable, the Tortured Queen,
still digging through avalanches of snow,
holding out decaying fingers to any stranger, bundled in a pile of spider-web ridden scarves,
huddled in wet boots in an alley down Dufferin,
blood crawling out of overused nostrils,
still dreaming about unmade tattoos on top of a skin
that’s seen worse days.

Yet, you’re vibrant, still strong, still in love with your life, every detail of it–
Even unemployment and near-homelessness weren’t enough to bring you down.
No longer the friend I once knew, just another anecdote,
just another character standing across from me, blur of purple and pink,
giving me that wide-set grin, eyes riveting,
background story immortalized in that one night,
filtered through my bias, truth condensed into this one-paragraph fiction,
I wrote just for you.

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