empty

Beautiful woman,
 we met almost five years ago
during a hazy freshman night
full of loud laughter and unexpected compliments
we started the most epic of adventures

 my undergrad years were bearable because of you,
best friend.
where others saw prison bars, I saw a playground
the world was not our oyster, it was our sandbox
and we were free to build and discover as we wished

I was your candle during the long nights full of loss and grief
I watched you struggle and persevere
to declare that the dark places in your mind
did not have a part in your life

we were determined and strong
we learned what it means to call ourselves women
we were always going to be there for the other
and we were the next big thing to hit the academic world

so tell me,
please
what could have possessed you
that night
when you decided it was your time to leave this earth
that you simply didn't belong here any more

I can't comprehend the past events
They simply will not dissolve into thoughts that I can make sense of
still-
 I wish I knew how you wrote your demise into your own future fault lines
why you deepened the cracks of scars that already ran the length of your years
because I know the monsters in the closets of your memories
the secrets scribbled on scraps of paper and hastily shoved behind your day to day thoughts
 I'm the one whose arms will be around you when the pain from your past threatens to consume you
 I know you better than anyone
 I am your rock.
 you don't know this, but you're mine.

 yet
 how am I supposed to lean on you
when your foundations have all crumbled away with a few handfuls of pills?

 You didn't look the part
when I saw you sitting in the crisp hospital bed
telling me why you thought I would be okay if you were gone


Honestly,
 I think that your excuses and your reasons are total bullshit
know that if you had succeeded, I would never be able to find peace.


your attempt on your own life has left me... empty.
but that's not the right word.
is there a word for the pain of accidentally cutting your fingers on the pieces of your shattered anger?
there should be.
it would make my explanation easier to fit between my lips

I want you to know
that if you left,
I would lose my mind
on purpose.
drop it down a storm drain
so that it would wash away the hollow feeling
that wishful wanting that never fully goes away

 Baby girl, I am not okay.
I wish you could be here to hear these words
and understand how hard my heart pounds whenever you call me in tears

 There is a fear slowly gnawing at my sanity
that flames during the moments between waking and sleeping
and the drips of consoling thoughts that you're still here don't do much for the burns I've sustained

 so how do I end this?
with hope.

 maybe hope that next time....
...next time you'll take just a moment to realize
exactly what the chaotic aftermath of blades inscribed with self-blame and remorse cutting through my ability to be functional
would really look like.