Allison nobody

Not really a poem..more of a stream of conciousness rambling but maybe you might enjoy it...

ALLISON NOBODY
Allison was just another mixed up girl from somewhere in suburbia
she wore far too much mascara and had a smile as transparent as a roll of packing tape..
she brushed her hair 60 times a day and never failed to check her reflection in the dirty storefront windows of the shops she'd pass on her way to the bus station..
I remember she lived primarily on salad and ate wheat thins right out of the box.
she was the only girl I knew who could wear every color in the rainbow, and yet nothing ever really matched her eyes...
sometimes we'd sit on the fire escape outside the 23rd street pool hall and drink cheap wine out of the bottle while looking up at the sky and talking to each other about a past we were both too young to really have..
she'd always ask me "whats so great about life?" and I'd always answer "whats so great about death?"
Every night I felt this was the night when we'd finally kiss...but after awhile we'd both just sort of drift off into our own booze induced thoughts and ideas and eventually go home to dream about all the things we would never be..
In her 23rd summer allison grew tired of the game she thought she was playing and left one night as quietly and inauspiciously as a whisper in the wind..
she was the only girl I've met who ever made me cry...
now that shes gone I wonder if I ever really said goodbye
and If I did Im sure I really meant " I'll see you soon"
but some goodbyes are forever not just one rainy august afternoon
some days I can still see her brushing her hair or striking a pose in some greasy shop window..eating wheat thins out of a box..dressed like the rainbow and still not wearing anything that really matches her eyes..
and from time to time I still ask her "whats so great about death?"

What a deep insight... was that a true story? it's VERY sad and very common unfortunately... but written in a very soft and original way.

its for the most part true..maybe a bit shaded by my memory of it..

I guess we have a way of shading memories and turning things slightly different in our memories - sometimes better, sometimes worse. - Well, I do, do you ever feel that way regarding past events?

I'd say we all do really