This is an experiment of sorts. I have lost a lot of friends in the past several years, and I'm making some sort of effort to understand why. I'm going to try to be honest about my part in their ending, but that just means that I'll be lying through my teeth slightly less. I'm going to keep names out of it, but that just means that the one person who doesn't already know each of these stories in great detail will have a little trouble tracking them. And i'm going to try to approach it with some humor, but right now for me, that's like saying I think Adrien Brody should've won a Best Comedy Actor award in The Pianist.
The thing is, I'm sad. I'm really sad. And I'm pretty angry, too. So though my intention is to tell the stories of the friends that I have lost, this may turn into an outlet for that sadness and anger. Or maybe I'll start sharing cool recipes and neat DIYs. Who knows?
For now, I'm going to start with a poem that I wrote. The last time I lost a friend, it was one of the most painful experiences in my life. This is one of the results.
The yawning cavern echoes
Where once was ensconced passion -
Beating, like a drum
Do you remember when you harvested my organs?
I was unsure - I hesitated -
But you asked so nicely, sheep's wool in your large eyes
I dug them all out and I handed them over, one by one
You hid them all away, locked up safe, one by one
Until the final, the prize
This you squeezed tight in your hand, "to never let go"
I smiled, followed,
Bright eyes, shining and new, on you
I was yours
Then I grew, and I learned, and I challenged -
Your hunger insatiable
So you pulled out your key, unlocked the doors
And feasted, one by one
Until I could no longer breathe
I thought no more, saw no more
And my bones fell to pieces
Until the final, the prize
And you tossed it into the sea, "to never let go"
I watching with blank eyes
And the yawning cavern echoes
Where once was ensconced passion
Beating -
Like a drum
Yeah. He was a dick (that's the humor part of this installment).
