That's what they said
I saw her in the hospital
I put my hands on her arm
And that was all it took
She said, ‘Lonnie, I don’t want to die’
And I said, ‘You won’t
And she didn’t
She’s still alive today
I brought her back, they said
I brought her back from the brink
Then she outlived two of her kids
One died from leukemia
The other one died in a knife fight
Outside a bar in Scovie
Now my aunt wants to die
And every time she looks at me
She gets mad eyes
Like I knew something she didn’t
Like keeping her around
Wasn’t the favor she thought it was
But the people in the neighborhood still come to me
Put your hands on me
They say
But I won’t
Because I don’t want them thinking it’s true
Even in my head
I think it’s true too
I saw a dog get hit by a car once
And I walked over to it
Put my hands on it
And it jumped up
And bit my arm
The same thing happens when you help people
--They bite
But still, people talk
One woman brought her son to me
Only three-years-old
And he stopped breathing in his bed
And she didn’t know why
She didn’t bring him to the doctor
Or the hospital
She took him to me
‘Please,’ she said, ‘Please’
But I’m not God
God made him and God took him
And I can’t bring him back
That’s what I learned
Sitting in church
Asking God to take away
This gift he gave me
Because I don’t want it
Why would he make me more powerful than Him?
Why would he put that on me?
I don’t want it
My Dad used to call me Superman
‘Hey Superman,’ he said, and that was before he knew what I
could do
One night he gets into it with my Mom
And she takes a knife
Puts it in his chest
Then takes off
Never saw her again
My Dad’s laying there on the kitchen floor
Blood coming out of him
And I’m there with my hands on both sides of his face
Saying ‘Please, please’ the same way that lady begged me
And just like that
The knife popped up
His chest closed up
And he was fine
He looked at me and said ‘What’d you do?’
And not in a grateful way either
But like—‘Who are you?’
‘I don’t trust you’
I had to grow up early
The dynamic changed, you know?
You save your father
And he ain’t your father no more
He never really talked to me after that
Just came and went
And I did for myself
The last time I ever touched somebody like that
Was this girl from UMass Dartmouth
We were at my buddy’s house
For this 4th of July party he was having
And the two of us—me and her
We were just sitting on the deck
Talking, and she goes—
Can I kiss you?
And I said, ‘Sure’
So she kisses me
And then she tells me
She went to the doctor that day
And they found a mass on her spine
And she was scared
I put my hand on the back of her neck
And the other one on her lower back
And she looked at me funny
But then I saw that calm go over her
The same way it did with my dog and my aunt
‘You’ll be fine,’ I said
And she was
I knew she was
Then I got up and left the party
Two weeks later
She was in a plane headed to Bermuda
The engine failed
And the plane went down
Only one person survived
Guess who that was?
She never called me though
Not even when the news crews surrounded her
Asking her how—How was it possible?
Maybe she never put two and two together
Maybe she just thought she was lucky
They’re hounding her now
The news people
They’re never going to leave her alone
And the government’s already got her sequestered somewhere
In case she really is invincible
So she can be their new weapon
The thing is, you can save a million people
But you’re never going to forgive yourself
For the two million you didn’t save
The rest of the people on that plane
Or the little boy who stopped breathing
Or your mother
The way you stood by and watched your father beat the shit
out of her every night
Until one day she couldn’t take it anymore
Maybe God gave me this ability
Because it used to be his
And now he doesn’t want it anymore
Maybe it was too much for Him
Because if you save somebody
You better be prepared to save them every day
For the rest of their lives
Otherwise, why bother, right?
Otherwise, what’s the point
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