I don’t know how I got here.
I woke up suddenly in this nightmare.
This hellish place--
No water, no food--
This sand burning my face.
My lips are drying.
My eyes, squinting.
My ears, listening.
Then I remember something.
Familiarity. My friends and I sitting
On the cool ground, in a circle.
“What would you bring with you?” Asked Myrtle.
“To a deserted island?” I asked her.
I laughed and said, “Hopefully a lot of water.”
“You’re funny,” said Jason.
“Answer truly,” added Adan.
“Fine,” I told them.
“If stuck on a deserted island,
I wouldn’t take with me anything..”
--you’re mad! What about water?
“You didn’t let me finish,” I told Myrtle.
“I wouldn’t take with me anything.
Not my family, not a person.
Not a journal or a book,
Not one thing, not even a joke.”
“Why not?” They all echoed.
Reality snaps me back.
I’m full of what I lack.
I think back hard
On my answer before.
I remember it clearly,
And wish I’d been wrong.
“Well,” I said quietly.
“I’m not going to lie.
I know when that happens,
I’m just going to die.”
But now that I’m here,
Ready to become like the sand,
I wish that I said something else
Like another wish that I can spend.
Then I’d wish for a lot of water
And my family and friends.
Because nothing is lonelier
Than being alone in the end.