I didn't cry when I heard of your passing, didn't fall to my knees or scream at the sky, you would have hated that anyway.The world went on around me, daily routines soaking up time like a desert soaks up precious drops of rain. Your funeral had gone before I heard the news, no black-draped graveside gestures for me. 

All I could think was "that's another one of us gone" both of you too soon but the tears didn't come.

 Days turned into weeks, as they will...

Then came the music, funny how music can do that. My speakers spoke of Jesus riding a motorbike and there you were, dancing, or something like it. Your face radiating happiness as it always did when we misfits were all together, that grin, oh how I miss that grin, wide as the grand canyon and equally beautiful. I laughed, mascara black tears staining my cheeks, as a torrent of despair set forth, bleeding old wounds and cleansing my heart. I still miss you, even now, you with your ever- worn parka and your party tricks deemed unacceptable in polite society, I always will. I wrote you a poem. You wouldn't like it, because it's sad, the one thing you never were...