DIGGING UP A GIRL'S GRAVE | poetry

ii

BEST-FRIEND
2019

My best friends a mortician.

They're quiet and gloomy, but their loyalty is unmatched, so I provide the same.

They work the graveyard shift, long nights and with even louder thoughts and they call to tell me all about it.

I stay up with them, even though I am tired, but honestly I never had a choice—they'd blow up my phone and for some reason I can't silence it.

I wait for them to leave before I go home, even if I don't want to, because that's the only way I'll be able to sleep—if they're gone.

Even though death and I have a relationship that's too close for comfort, they'll drag me to the coroners office anyway.

Even though they are a burden, they are the only friend I know I'll have at the end of every day, and beginning of every night.

Their loyalty is unmatched.

They would never leave me.

They will never leave me.

Because my best friend is the friend I never wanted.

Their name is Depression.