Best Friend

I’ve cried so much

my eyes are raw,

my lips are chapped,

and my nose is stuffed.

It’s not the pretty little death,

not graceful and quiet,

not artfully prepared,

that is seen in homes

and cheap horror flicks.

Painfully sudden and

terrifyingly real,

a speeding train

heading for a full-on collision.

 

There your family car was

in the parking lot in front of the building

where you lived.

Shiny and new and blue

as the first day your folks

bought it.

A light rail crash, a voice whispers,

somehow knowing, has killed

the entire family.

I knew what that meant,

but I was afraid to continue

seeing the living reminder of

her achingly bright existence.

Unbidden, instinctive tears

roll down my cheeks.

I barely notice as

I swallow reality and

the horror unfolding before me.

Somehow, some way, still,

a shell of me keeps

mobbing and talking for me,

but I’m not there.

I’m hidden away inside

where no one can see me,

locked away and alone.

Try as they might,

teachers and friends are no comfort.

For, what else can penetrate

the nefarious reality

of losing your best friend?

 

Still caught in the deep stupor

of a true vicious nightmare,

I rise into the dead of night

with those same tears

trailing down my cheeks.

I tell myself that

she is alive, breathing,

well, and unharmed.

Unsatisfied and still distraught,

I email her,

the only thing that I know

will tell me if she’s all right.

I know it was only a dream,

but it feels too painful

and miserable

not to have been something more.

 

Best friend, I love you so much.

I know you know;

haven’t I told you enough?

You mean the world to me

and I couldn’t bear to lose you.

That death, your passing,

is not beautiful or

artfully prepared

like a vase of flowers.

That is a grisly murder

that would have stolen

a life too precious to me

for me to forget.

 

Best friend, I know I may seem

stoic and laconic,

but I feel much more than you,

or anyone else,

could ever imagine.

So much so that it even surprises me.

You mean the world to me

and I would break

in your un-transient passing.

Whenever you feel down and out,

just read these precious words

I have drawn out

from the sea of my despair

and feast in their richness.

Best friend, take care.

I can’t bear to lose you.

Author's Note

One night this past summer, I had an unexpected dream about a friend of mine dying. Some of the details of the dream, as expected, were a little skewed. There isn't a light rail where my friend lives, nor does she live in an apartment (which may have go0ne unmentioned in the poem about the dream). The dream felt so powerfully real that I literally woke up from it crying. I did send her an email and she is, to this day, perfectly alive and happy.

This made me realize how even more precious life is. Things and people precious to ourselves can he taken away in an instant. It's scary how quick it can be. Dear readers, please take home the same message. Life is precious. I can't tell you how very precious it is.