For the past few days, my friend has been sick.
He hasn't been able to eat or drink without anything staying down.
It's gotten worse.
He's been stuck in the bed.
He was asked if he wanted to go to the hospital,
and he said no.
I feel like if I would have known,
He would be alive.
It could have only taken one conversation to change his mind,
Now he's dead,
and I want to go with him.
My friend Chloe sent me that in a text message.
She's going through depression.
She blames herself for her best friends death,
Because she couldn't get in contact with him.
She hasn't been at school for 4 days.
She's not answering anyones phone calls,
So I text her:
Chloe,
Now i'm in your shoes.
Your'e my best friend.
Don't slay your soul because a part of your life has disappeared,
I still need you,
Like you needed him.
Even though he is no longer here,
I can be your comfort zone.
This feeling should not choke hold your final decision,
Visions of your grave should not flash before your eyes,
Your'e only 17 and your epitaph should not be created yet.
Don't cut your life-line because his phone line is disconnected,
I'll be at the other end.
Instead of popping pills, lets pop conversations everyday,
I'll be your anti-depressant.
Life is too short for you to cut your life short because your best friend is dead.
I walked in your shoes,
Now it's time for you to do the same for me.
Tighten the laces,
and see how it feels when your best friend tells you she wants to die.
Chloe,
I was able to have this conversation with you.
I pray that it changes your mind because,
Losing a best friend,
Over losing a best friend,
Isn't worth it.

Did you really think I could live with this?
Even though you didn’t protect me,
I trusted you.
Welcomed you with open legs,
And as your warm hand shook mine,
I could tell something was wrong.
My skin complexion became three words,
S.T.D.
Muscle aches and pains contracted from top,
To bottom.
No cure.
Everyday I have outbreaks,
Knowing that I can’t break out of this disease.
Burning leads to the nerve paths of my discharge.
****,
Began to ooze out like the secret you never told me.
Unlike you,
I was itching to try and make it go away,
But the itching turned into torn blisters.
Can’t cover up that disgusting smell,
Because if I do, it will only get worse.
Not that it was getting better.
These blue and yellow conversation bumps will never go away,
They just keep talking.
I trusted you.
But you only wanted me for your special needs.
Now I’m in an episode of symptoms
That keeps repeating every time I breathe.
Lungs, feel like hands that turned into swollen glands,
Squeezing,
Until it moves down to my stomach,
Causing me to throw up your guilt.
I should have known something was up when you refused to go get tested.
April 30, 2008,
I’m diagnosed with ******.

When I look in the mirror,
I see,
The reincarnation of my mother.
Even though her eyes are now blue,
Instead of amber,
And her skin tone is now the shade of
Off-white instead of,
Caramel and honey,
I know she is there.
Even though her hair is now blonde with,
Conversation highlights instead of,
Silent midnight black,
This young lady speaks to me.
My mother is there.
I can see her,
Chemo vessels and her eulogy heart beating,
In rhythm to the number of days that she was alive,
16,790 solid.
She no longer has to look in the sun
For me to see the glare in her eyes because,
They now shine brighter than the 100million kilo-watt moon.
Even though her lips are thin
Instead of being filled with sugar sweet kisses,
I know, that this is her,
My mother.
She is no longer 5”8,
Instead she is 4”11,
Which makes it easier for me to place her into my heart,
And always feel her pounding into my nerves,
As though she were finally being revived.
Even though there was never a need for her teeth to be whitened,
They always shone brighter than stars.
This is a sign.
That we will be together again.
Even though her name is no longer La’Wanda,
It still clings to my memory.
Even though she is no longer here,
I see her face inside the shadow of another.
My mother…is there.

I should have known,
that you would leave me one day.
Our hearts were forced together as one,
even though we knew they weren't meant to.
One morning,
you left me-alone.
My heart was unbareable.
Bleeding tears,
I slowly placed it back in my chest,
and began to let the blood flow.
I should have known that,
you would do me like any other girl,
but i was too blind from that pearly white fake smile to..,
even let that sink in.
I was too caught up in the way you made me feel
when I was around you.
I should have known that,
that moment we had when,
I place my head in your chest and inhaled for the longest,
it would be my last deep thought of us.
They say love will do that to you,
but
I should have known,
you didn't love me.
I should have known that,
when we slowly stiched our hearts together,
I should have stopped sewing your lies into my body.
They were thicker than my blood.
How could I be so stupid?
I should have known,
I should have never let you mistreat me.

I always believed that when it rained,
God was weeping because a new angel was coming up to heaven.
Once,
God cried for two days straight.
His tears spread all over middle Tennessee,
leaving water everywhere,
like concrete that never dried....

I am the *******,
and poetry is my ****.
slapping me around with its,
enriched vocabulary,
scarred vowels across my face.
A-E-I-O-U,
i owe you,
1 minute of sinful poetry.
I put a ****** on the mic so I
wouldn't pass off my poetic S.T.D.
infecting the dictionary.
but my grammar was incorrect.
after 9 months-
OOPS!
out comes the alphabet.
and when i gave birth to English,
you took it from me and created tongue twisters,
poetic metaphors that will have you,
speechless.
and I'm back at point one.
I am the *******,
and poetry is my ****.
scarred vowels across my face.
A-E-I-O-U.