8/9/18

Six years ago today
My friend stood bravely
At the edge of oblivion
(If the void is what you want to believe in)
And chose no more pain over her continued breathing
I was drunk when my ex-boyfriend called to tell me
Later he complained that he was not mentioned
In her suicide note enough
And that the cops wouldn’t hand over her gun
“What?” He said. “It’s not like she’ll use it again.”

This morning I woke up with the realization
That I could no longer call my heart broken
The way I once did
I’m not sure when that mending even came
How to quantify the exact moment when enough time passes
For tragedy to amount to cold indifference
Maybe that’s just me
A hardening of the arteries

My heart beats unbroken and regularly now
Just as sure as night follows day
Time moves ever forward
Into crumbling old age
My body aches
With the weight of every scar
I was once so certain
Would shatter my heart

All my friends
Are filled with worries
War
Famine
Death
Pestilence.
You know, the usual.
But we mostly worry about the first two
We wonder if our friend checked out early
As if she could somehow see
The darkness and woe waiting for us.

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8/9/18

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