warm honey ▸ poetry

19

[ trigger warning. ]
no author on duty,
read at your own risk.

i remember the call.

i never thought i'd get that kind of call.
it was the kind of call that yanked the ground from beneath your feet before you could blink.

i remember the way your mother's voice shook ever-so-slightly as she screamed at me through the phone.
it rings in my head every now and again.

it's your fault. it's all your fault.

i asked her what was wrong,
if she was okay,
what was happening.

she screamed at me again,
louder this time.
more violent.

you should have told someone.
you don't keep things like this
a fucking secret.

she didn't make any sense.

what was all my fault?
what was i keeping a secret?

i asked her again what was wrong,
if she was okay,
what was happening.

or, in this case,
what had happened.

she didn't scream this time.
her voice dropped to a whisper.
i could tell she was crying.
she sounded broken.

and that's when it hit.
hard.
like a punch to the throat.

she's gone;
overdosed on prescription drugs
last night.

i remember dropping the phone.
the call was never ended
by me, at least.

my eyes filled with tears.

people all around me were concerned,
questioning me.
fake,
all of it,
all of them.

so i ignored it.

i pushed away,
through the crowd,
refusing to answer anyone or anything as i ran out of the room.

thankfully,
no one came.
no one bothered to bother me.
and that was okay.

i remember finding an empty hallway,
sitting in the corner farthest from the door.

the tears that once filled my eyes now filled my hands as they trickled down my cheeks.

i couldn't believe it.
i wouldn't believe it.
you weren't gone.
this was a joke.
a prank.
look, there's the cameras.

except, they were no cameras.
and this wasn't a prank.
or a joke.
this was life.
real fucking life.

and real fucking life said that you were gone.
honestly, truly gone.

that day continues to haunt me,
it has for the past three years.

the image of you lying on a hospital bed,
paper thin, pale and lifeless
is forever sketched into the back of my mind.

that day i remember well,
for that was the day i lost my best friend.