I look at the clock and see it's 2 a.m. and several things come to mind
I can't remember the last time I've been awake at this hour
It is now October
And I can't believe it is now October
October has come around, again, and there are times I believe
And times I can't believe
And then there's the 2 a.m. (Breathe) song and I'm reminded what I've wanted to tell you
Be not fooled by the popularity of Grey's Anatomy
It is good, and here is why:
"The End of the World" and "As We Know it"
Also known as the Super Bowl Episodes
Still haunt me
The 2 a.m. (Breathe) song brings me back to the crisis
The crisis was a silly plot about a bomb
But the Grey's writers know something besides silly bomb plots
They know death
I watch in silent reverence at how they capture the air around death
Sometimes my throat tightens, I can hardly stand it
There is sex and silliness and a healthy dose of character development
But I watch because when October left last year I had to remind myself to Breathe
At 2 a.m.
But back to my belief and my disbelief
When it's 2 a.m. and I've decided not to lose any more sleep on the sermon to be given tomorrow, at that tiny church
And dig through old files for old sermons given at different old churches
I run across a file that reads "Kyle- Eulogy"
I wonder what that is all about.
And I can't believe.
There are also times when people do things that are only done when someone has died
And I get angry at their kindness because it bitch slaps me into believing
So I write poems
And try to cope with the guilt of "moving on"
And being angry with those who are backing up
And breathing better than I
In the end I want to choose how I handle this
I want to pick the times to cry and I want to pick the people to walk with me
But life does not afford these opportunities
2:30 a.m. and I'm still awake, writing a blog
Naked, in front of the crowd
You'll use them however you want to
Life's like an hourglass glued to the table
No one can find the rewind.