• jeffstinson1972

My Dead Friend

I read the back of the breakfast cereal box

Cause I’m afraid I’m going to fucking lose it

I need the distraction

14 mg of dietary fiber, 6 g of sugar and 340 calories, without milk


You held me on so many sad evenings

Darker and more tragic than the darkest shades of black

And you never fucking let go until I was ready

When the dark clouds refused to retreat

You gently handed me rainbows

Only when you knew I was ready to receive them

And you told me things would get better

And you believed it [I know you did], so I believed it


Images of his body, grey

Not moving, on the fucking bedroom floor

“911 operator. I can’t pump his chest any faster”

“Where the fuck are they?!”

2 minutes, 4 minutes, 7 minutes, 10 minutes later…

An EMT asks me to stand back


Your couch, your chairs, your dishes with images of fish on them

The leftovers of the last meal you cooked still in the pan on the stove

The kitchen walls, cabinets, and floors

Now scorched, in a solitary and soulless non-home

Last Thursday, me, drunk, passed out

The fire department, the police

And the series of questions

And then the hangover, and a bottle of wine, or 3

Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat

I know the definition of self-destruction

And resemble every letter of it


Photos

Good times and fun accidental disasters

And him and me

I dance with every memory of you, my friend

Pictures on the dining room table, spread out

I laugh, then immediately cry and then angry

Then just so fucking angry and violent –

And I’m never violent

And I’m so seldom ever really angry, but I’m so angry

And shaking and mumbling and near hysterical…


…Then calm

And I must be breathing. You can’t be living and not breathing, right?

I exhale uncomfortably, as I do nowadays


I stare at walls for hours, numb, and the paint is silent

Then I’m standing up again and don’t remember why

My cell phone rings. Friends are worried. Family are worried

My therapist has me on speed dial

I don’t answer

I don’t fucking answer and I feel bad about it

Like I need to feel worse, though I couldn’t feel worse

But now I do and I can’t and I don’t know what to do about that


You taught me that absolutely everything in life doesn’t have to suck

You taught me so fucking much…

I can’t afford the amount of paper it would require to write it all down on

I was an unfinished sketch, a beginning artist’s attempt

You had the markers, the paint brushes, and the glitter

And you made me sparkle and added color to my life

At Macy’s I tried on the button-up shirt you asked me to consider

It had fucking pineapples all over the fucking place

On the arms and on the back, and my chest and stomach were covered with them

I like pineapple, but it was loud and I am naturally quiet

It was everything I wasn’t, but wanted to become

And I bought it. Because we laughed and had so much fun that afternoon


I’ll be honest, I’ll be absolutely fucking honest…

I don’t know how to continue – or even know if I want to try

---

During this time of year, the morning sun reveals newly awakened colors

Landscapes that explode with visual brilliance

Like shimmering New Year’s Eve confetti released at midnight

Beauty falls upon the ground and everything dark is silenced…


I write the above stanza because I’m beginning to scare those who care about me

And I realize this…

Nobody who loves me wants to imagine the out of control tornados

That are ripping me the fuck apart


My friend – my dead friend

I’ll do my absolute best not to disappoint you

I’ll do my best to keep waking up – to keep breathing, inhaling and exhaling

And I promise to do my best to look forward to tomorrow’s sunrise

Though I couldn’t give less of a shit or a fuck or a mother fuck about it today…

I’m going to try


I’m going to try

I’m going to fucking try

Because I love you and miss you


And that’s all I really wanted to say


#jimmybroccoli


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