the survivor's guilt
that once used to happen
to people in stories,
people in shipwrecks,
fires, earthquakes,
and other such major tragedies
and rack the life
of those who lost their loved ones
and felt guilty for living on
now
has lost its
superlatives
hysterics
drama
hubris
heroes
and pesters ordinary people
in small ways.
making you feel bad
for getting higher grades
when your friend has worked
harder than you
and you know
is crying secretly.
making you feel bad
for having an admirer
that your friend admired in the first place
and in addition to crying secretly
your friend now tries hard to keep it a secret
that she also despises you.
the pat from the boss
the lottery ticket
the complements
the radiant complexion
the money
the effortlessness of it all
(perhaps the most annoying)
instead of destroying the hero's life
with extreme pain, anguish and remorse
the survivor's guilt now pinches, pokes
and generally induces a mild everyday gloom
in a quintessential young woman's life
in the stories
the hero dies, becomes a monk
or performs an extraordinary act
of selfless social service
to cure survivor's guilt.
none of which is really appropriate
in dealing with its
reduced, everyday avatars.
there are no stories that help
with the guilt
of a charmed life.
of being thrusted with
unwanted little victories.
perhaps it was always so.
perhaps the reduced forms always existed.
only no stories were ever written
about anything lesser than kings.
