Busy

'I'm busy, sweetheart, maybe sometime soon'.

See, I'd like to think
In those words
That in between that essay and this lecture and that crazy French teacher
You really have no time
No hours left in the twenty-four you are given each day
That you're so starved for time
You forget to feed your cat
And your brothers have forgotten your name

And I'd like to think
That you spend each moment
Of every minute
You put pen to paper
Whore yourself to science
And are harassed by art
Wishing you could see a friend
Say hello
Be a friend.

But then you remember
When you were five your playmate's mother
Didn't want you at her house
Because you weren't white.
You remember being forced to hand out invitations
To parties you were never invited to
You remember everyone running away
Speaking of things you don't understand
Like department-store clothes and mothers who get their nails done
Reminding you, every day
'You're not one of us, you'll never be one of us'

You remember that your friend
Told you she was too busy
And then went out with another
You remember that your best mate
Spent three days with his girlfriend
And not a single minute with you
You remember all the times you play hostess
To empty chairs and empty tables
You remember that girl
Who you loved more than life itself
Who wouldn't be caught dead in your company outside school
Where too many people bear witness to how far she has fallen
To only have you as company
You remember all those times
When you were told that
That girls night out was changed to Thursday
So your friends could go out on Tuesday
Blissfully free from your presence

You remember when you were six
You told your mother that your ancient stuffed toy
Must be human, too
Because in your world
Your words fall on deaf ears
For mortals and dolls alike
For you they all have the same blank, cold, unfriendly eyes

You remember trying to think of what you did wrong
And then you realise your crime
You were yourself.
I loved them all just the way I am.
It was my own kind of love and it destroyed them
So they destroyed me.

You remember every person who has said 'I'm too busy'
And everything they have done to you.
And you know that even on your deathbed they'd be too busy
Maybe next time
Sorry.

You realise that your mother
Is the busiest woman in the world
She never said those words
She always had time for you.

And so I'd like to think
When you say 'I'm too busy'
You're really off saving the world
And tomorrow, you promise
You will have time to smile at me.

But in my life things are never as they seem
Until someone proves me wrong
I think I know what your words mean.