They Asked the Man Who Shot Him on the Train and He Pointed At Me

Whats in this story

I stopped sleeping with a nightlight while you were in my bed

And for a moment I thought that meant more than it did


You barged in and lit up

the spooky corners of my mind

Scared away the nightmares

The loneliness that comes from searching

for something you can’t identify


And in return I wanted to heal you

To stitch the pieces of you back together with quiet affection

I thought a little quiet might be good for you

That you might welcome it

-it’s hard to be the life of the party-


But your demons seemed louder in the silence

They screamed and rattled inside your head and reminded you of

How unsafe it is to feel good


Because you felt good once

…And then you died

That is to say- she killed you

Ripped your lungs clean out of your chest

She shot you on the train when you were one stop away from happy


And so too, you ran from me

Hid under the bed


Like she and I were cut from the same assassin’s cloth


But you were wrong!

And I wanted to shout in your face

I wanted to tell you it was time to forget

everything she taught you about love

That I could do it better

“Don’t you remember that time you kissed me in the parking lot and I squealed with delight?

That was good, wasn’t it?

Didn’t time stand still? Didn’t the fairies in the trees start dancing and didn’t the sun and the wind sing in chorus?”


But I didn’t say any of that

I didn’t say a word

And so there was only more silence

And just like that, I too realized how scary the quiet can be