Post-Neology

My
(not-so)
old friend
died today.
Or maybe yesterday.
Who’s to say?
(if it even matters)

Certainly not me,
who opted out
of state
(and its mind),
transformed,
transposed
into a distant familiar

who mistook absence
for autonomy,
and called the silence
“growth,”

the kind who killed
the Facebook account
that was killing me.

Truth is,
I never thought
I’d outlive him.
I was the sad one,
hovering near exits,
while he burned nights away
bright-eyed,
purpose-drunk.

He’s what
my blind mind’s eye
tries to picture
when I hear:
will to live.


I slipped more,
than a couple,
(shoulda-been)
more-than,
coulda-been friends
out of sight
(and out of mind),
But he was more,
Than just,
one
( or any )
of them.

How he became a stranger?
( someone I used to know )
A fate stranger still
than I imagined life
would ever allow,
back when we,
were immortal kids:
sons of vets
(nightmares never to forget).
He always had
my scrawny back,

We swore we’d never forget.
Maybe he didn’t.

But I let the boulder lie slip:
told myself,
“I can’t be the me
I need to be
surrounded by
these plain folk.”

Even though
he carried me,
without question
(and my brother’s name)
through pastures
of broken bones,
Cemented a permanent place,
safe in my parents’ home.

I
(tend to)
forget to tend
my shepherds,
But apparently,
(especially)
those who,
led me through
an unkind adolescence,
where (t)he(y) taught
my condescending ass
how much sweeter life is
when you can learn,
True independence,
By kindling a kindness
that isn’t ever,
kin-dependent.

I’ve been missing you,
brother.
But I should’ve had
twice as much
of you to miss.
( that’s on me )
( sorry )

My heart’s forecast is stuck,
frozen—
calling for more
of the same
(shit I can’t handle).