The other night you made me a cup of tea.
We bickered because I stole your chocolate. I was always stealing your chocolate. Chocolate is my fave, and I'd find it and eat it however well you thought you'd hid it.
But as we drank our tea, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right.
And then I looked at you, and realised what was wrong.
You had died.
I held your hand as you took your last breath...
And yet here we were, drinking tea, and bickering over chocolate.
It was a mistake you told me.
You hadn't died!
You woke up in the morgue, and had only just found your way home.
"Holy shit" I thought.
Who on earth did we hold the funeral for?
You laughed as I worried about the mix up.
"This is serious!" I said.
But you kept on bloody laughing.
Always did have a dark sense of humour you.
My tea went cold as I wondered how I was going to tell everyone you were alive.
Then I opened my eyes.
Tears stung them to life.
And then I realised that you were gone.
Relieved I didn't have to tell people of the awful mistake.
I was happy.
Happy you visited.
Happy you know where to find me...