Each year around 9/11 I have a hard time sleeping. I start to think about what I would do if I were on one of those flights. How I would respond. Part of my feelings tonight (this morning) center not around 9/11 itself but where I find myself these days with not having a job (got a call today letting me know I didn't get the job I most recently interviewed for), fighting with Bank of America over their complete fucking up of my mortgage, frustrations about so many other things... I don't think of myself as aggressive, naturally. I think of myself as rather mild mannered, always willing to talk things out, negotiate, rationally solve problems. But on nights like tonight, I have different visions. I'll try poetry for a change. See how this fits, or communicates what I'm thinking.
I would fight
my cell phone would be on
because I would want to have you be on that other end
hearing that I have no fear, that I am brave.
I would tell you I love you first, and listen to you breathe
just for me
for a minute,
and then I'd rise.
I would put the phone down where I once sat
and hope that you would hear.
I know how to dislocate a shoulder.
I know how to take a punch.
I know how to set that example
so others who maybe wouldn't fight would know
it is time to do so.
I would not have time to return to my seat before all is
So I would just have to know that you are aware of what I've done.
I would hope that you'd be proud of me, of my actions
not just this moment but all the moments of my life
during the time you've known me.
You would have the opportunity to tell people ten years on
"She had no fear," and you would not be lying.
But you maybe wouldn't know
that my last act and breath would be full of tears and sorrow
for not being able to touch your cheek again, or hear you
Knowing that I'd never have the chance either way,
I'd still fight.