words from a mind that is only cracked.

This is a Sad Poem

This poem is about how I watched a man jump off a bridge in New York City.
How the cars kept on driving,
How I seemed to be the only one who noticed,
Who cared.
The look in his eyes before he fell,
Like he was finally free.

This poem is about my friend James who was beat to death in an alleyway
Between the Pawn Shop and Pizzeria.
Just because he'd kissed a boy.
How it took 9 blows to the head with a lead crowbar to finally take him out,
And the weapon is no longer silver, but red.

This poem is about my cousin Holly, who had a baby she couldn't love,
Because the child was only a reminder of toxic hands on her skin.
Hands of a boy she thought she loved.
Hands of a boy who took something from her
That could never be given back.

This poem is about my girlfriend who used to fall asleep beside me,
Smelling of shampoo and cigarette smoke,
But now falls asleep on her drug dealer's couch,
Smelling of heroin and vomit,
And she does not think about me anymore.

This poem is about my baby brother who was killed not by the hands of his own mistake,
But instead by that of a teenage boy named Ryan
Who decided it was okay to drive his friend's pickup
After drinking a fifth of vodka.
My brother was 7 years old.

"It will be okay."
Who told you that?
What could possibly lead you to believe that dry, empty lie?
You have not seen what I have.
You do not know what I know.
Don't tell me it will be okay
Because it won't.
It never is.
It never will be.