3 days later

sh*t f*ck d*mn

my friend is still gone
and poetry is nonsense in the face of death
each dawn brings home the fact
that dead he will remain. I drank all his liquor,

 

eager to hear him one more time-
"Do you know how much that s**t costs? and
I'm on a fixed income here." Everything is fixed
now, death brings an end to change. All that he was

 

will be distributed and he will slowly be forgotten. The end.

Author's Note

melodramatic, maudlin and self-indulgent- so sue me

Reviews

[Chloe Madison Taylor.]

who died.

I love my lack of proper punctuation.