WHY ME?

WHY ME???

I often ask as I squirm and check my watch and turn to put a foot towards the door…

But on and on and on they ramble.
The theys of the anywhere.

Everywhere I go, they tell me.

Their life stories, precious to them.

Spilled like a common cup of coffee.

Why? Why me?

I hold so many secrets.

Told in the heat of the desert in a beef jerky shop.

Told on a bench in the snow in Central Park.

Told in the swimming pool in a retirement home in Oxnard.

Told on a waterless climb to the top of the Great Wall in China.

What of mine though?
Held so close along with those of the strangers who spill.

What of mine?

— Trish

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