A name scrawled in black ink
on the side of my arm
faded faster than you did
your age, not too far from my own
will continue to climb because I
gave to you a life-saving drug.
Your first conscious words are obscenities
Fuck you, you cry belligerently
no idea how close you were walking that line
no understanding that without our intervention, you surely would have died.
Heroes wear capes and have fan clubs
though not a soul in the room turned a head as I walked by
It's not unusual, and I'm not the least bit upset
But I find it concerning how accustomed we have become to situations such as this.
I have but a single glimmer of hope
the dimmest light in the darkest sky
the raindrops on your skin reflecting luminescence from lampposts
the smouldering glow of your cigar and the heavy truth in your eyes.