Bubbles

An edited timed writing. My thoughts on getting involved with my friends lives.

I remember when I cared about the bubbles

That you blew from a wand, that floated and drifted upward.

I would pray for each one, begging that it wouldn't pop,

And when it did

I felt it deeply.

Now there are too many to see,

So many I can't breathe

And all I want to do is leave you and your bubbles to pop

One at a time.

You ask me and ask me again,
Each of you, all of you,

But what I have to say is to you

As inconsequential as one of the bubbles

That is floating by your ear.

Leave me alone so I don't have to choose my words, thoughts, feelings,

So carefully,

So I can laugh about something besides the bubbles.

Let me remain silent and unattatched

While you flirt and cry alternately.

Friends can only do so much, you know,

Especially when you're looking for comfort

And they give you the truth,

Or worse,

Advice.

We're all playing, but the game's been over for a hundred years.

All that's left now

Are bubbles.