Hiding

Clearly you are not interested in speaking with me. Yes, you in your suit…hiding behind the protection of your white ear phones. I saw you mouth he words, “Oh no”, when I got on. I saw the way you looked at me when I sat beside you. I know I’m not clean, but you would not believe where I’ve been. You’re not interested in hearing about that… but I could use a friend. Clearly, though, you have no time for me. You and your fancy suit….you and your water…if you knew where I’ve been. Can you tell this is my first time on here? What scares me is what’s waiting on the other side. I don’t have a home….I have no one. Listen, all I’ve got is this wrinkled piece of paper…this is the only hope that I’ve got….a wrinkled piece of paper with an address and number scribbled on it. This is it…this is my one shot. The crazy thing is I have no idea whose number this is. I’m just hoping the person on the other end can help…otherwise...well, you know.
I would love to tell you about it, but you will not know me.
I know you’re type. I used to see you every Saturday morning. You pulling up in your SUVs, your steaming cups of coffee…handing us blankets, food, a Gospel of John. Well, you can keep the blanket…I’ll be just fine. I’ll take that bible however; those pages make great joints. I don’t want your handout. What you can give me is your time…your friendship, your ear. I would love to tell you my story… where I’ve been, what I’ve felt, what I’ve heard, what’s been done to me….but you continue to hide.
I’m trembling..I can hardly stand…I’m weak in the knees…I’m going to be sick. I can hear my heartbeart. This is it. If only you had a small taste of the fear in my heart….this fear that I wake up with everyday…you might appreciate things a little more. You might not complain so much…keep hiding.