the night i
first
found out he
might
be sick it rained.
i ate manhattan's favorite
rice-a-roni
and tried so
hard
to feel something
to be fair i was very
upset
but i didn't feel it.
all i got was a
headache from
forced
tears and a
sleepless
night.
three months earlier
near the time of my
birthday
i was having a terrible day
per usual,
when i received a birthday card
in the mail.
it was from my sister and on the
bottom of the card it said
from:
then their names followed
but in the biggest
font, right underneath the rest of their names
was his,
'Elijah,'
written by his own hand.
I
smiled
at the thought of him
smiling
while writing that.
this is an unfinished piece, not that i don't want to write the rest of it i just cannot right now. it was cancer but he is doing fine.