To: the Dead, From: I Think You Know Who

The call came late one Friday night

I was tired, let the phone ring despite

Now my deepest wishes were foretold

My sanity to the soul-traders sold

Three words that changed my world

Incoherent thoughts around me swirled

You said in the voicemail, “I’m dying.  Goodbye.”

I was forced to imagine what I’ll do when you die

Every single person has that moment where

Revelations fill the reservoirs of thoughts there

You realize that everything you’ve ever had

Is leaving you and now you’re feeling bad

You died the next day and I would

Never even know what to do, so I stood

Silent and still, in my room, turning the lock

I fell over onto the bed and didn’t look at the clock

[Life’s raging rivers shift in the shuddering of hearts]

So two days later…

No one came..

So two days later…

People forgot your name…

So two days later…

You got, in my heart, fame.

But the third day arrived...

Everything is uniform...

Because you haven’t survived..

How am I supposed...

Live if you can’t be revived?

Now at day twenty-two...

I got this envelope...

To write a small letter to you...

Hence it came...

For you to know what I’ve been going though.

Can’t you see that

I need

You

To come

Back to me please