By Traci-Ann Wint
She fell into an abyss that had nothing to do with me –
an unabashed misery paralleled by none but my own.
For you know, misery loves company.
Her air –
The medicinal benefits of laughter have no place here.
Joy is for the carefree
and our combined burdens were more than the world could hold.
on the unreliable axis of dependent friendship,
waltzes lose their beauty
She presented her bruises
and I spun us both into madness,
casting useless language into her whirlwind of pain.
I knew no cures
but I couldn’t let her bleed
en route to relevé,
we stood together
cursing the world,
loving each other,
that we had to learn again to love.
And somewhere in the loving
I let her
Far from her, I, unwilling, fled
And I promised never to forget
her, why, we
but I did.
Self-consumed with mapping the contours
of what for her was more than a stage
I stumbled off into the wings
and she lay waiting
in the blurred depths of my
Do you remember us?
Do you remember how we?
Please remember me before the
of watching you deteriorate,
of not knowing,
in the face of your shame and terror.
Guilt, for the not doing of something
we both know
have the same passion as you.
You crashed somewhere on your
who promised me she’d tell you
that I am not
is a word too complex for my vocabulary.
Because with all that I think and know and specuate and say
I do not know what to be sorry for.
For with all that I think and know and speculate and say
I know not what to be sorry for.
So all I ask is that if someday our paths meet again
you will recognize your footprints
and forgive me.
Traci-Ann Wint is a doctoral student in the Anthropology department at the University of Texas at Austin. Her research focuses on colonial nostalgia, tourism, discipline and issues of citizenship and stasis in Jamaica. She received her BA from Vassar College in 2007 and then spent some time working as a television producer and as a project manager with a non-profit organisation before returning to the world of academia. She hails from Kingston, Jamaica.