trust it will heal
be patient in letting it

A friend of mine
died some years back
while trying to do a U-turn
and I found out secondhand
through gossip
"Did you hear that she died?"
"Why is everyone saying RIP
about her on Facebook, what happened?"
and I will never forget the smirk
that you had when you told me.
Was it the juicy gossip that had you excited?
Was it the exposure to death?
All you had to say to me in the aftermath
was
"Oh I heard there were drugs in her system"
as you mimed out the action
of smoking a joint
as though being high
and wanting to dull your senses
for pleasure
meant that the accident
was somehow deserved
as punishment from above
and I'm not sure about heaven
but I know Hell was living with you.

I couldn't even cry at her funeral
because you were there.
I cried for her when another friend
died three weeks later.

I'm not over anyone I've ever begun to love.
People always say they loved someone,
but I always stay present tense.
I always love.
If once, then always.

I'd write a poem
about you
but I haven't fallen
in love with you
nor do I regret meeting
you.
The gray area in which
you reside is poetry
in and of itself
and I would prefer
to keep it that way,
friend.