Today I watched a child fall off of his bike and cry,
I saw a couple fighting in the window of their dimly lit home
with the table set just for two,
I witnessed a family hug each other goodbye after a dinner
These moments we reserve as private, intimate, and
are not any of the above-
we do not own our experiences.
We live in a world full of ghosts,
passerby’s who, even in their inundated loneliness, can find
in the act of vicariously reveling in another person’s joy or
mourning for a stranger’s sadness.
is this painful to admit?-
that nothing is sacred in the idea of privacy?
Your first kiss was seen by a man in a red cap who smiled in
the moment you got the news that your grandma died was
seen by a woman and her friends at the local supermarket,
and when you cried on the bus, the people passing in
cars wished they could wipe away your tears.
Maybe we don’t die alone.