I remember the last time I was at your house
there was a divide between the six of you that lived there.
I hear that since I’ve been gone
things have turned into more of a free-for-all.
I never ask but your friends like to talk.
They tell me about how you’ve been
And I hear things haven’t been going so well for you.
I hear your tablet got stolen.
I hear you lose your cat
about as often as you lose your mind.
I hear you’ve been drinking *****, flavored peach,
more than your pomegranate tea.
I hear, from your friends, I’m so much better without you.
I hear, from your friends, that your new boyfriend is a “creepy, greasy loser.”
I hear that Miranda’s girlfriend is more aggressive now.
Some would say abusive.
Nobody there does anything about it though.
I hear that one of your friends moved out
of that toxic place of yours.
I’m very proud of her.
I hear, from your friends, you’re not really up to anything.
I hear that you still hit that juul.
You promised me you would try to quit.
You never try.
I hear you still blame everybody but yourself.

I hear that you are nothing
but a black hole
silently *******
out all the energy they’re trying to hold
on to.
I think that you may be more of a white dwarf
preparing to explode,
taking out everybody and their belongings
with you.

I hear it’s a blessing that I’m no longer around
that environment you and your roommates have created
and I think your friends are right.

But have you heard,
maybe from your friends,
that I still miss you?