Little King

A Poem By Flying Past Clouds // 2/6/2015

Missing a dead friend is a strange thing
Because I still talk to you when I get ready in the morning
I pretend you're just outside the shower curtain as I shampoo my hair
And I always politely ask you to turn around when I grab my towel

Yeah I guess it's a little weird but everyone grieves in their own ways

Like I always tear up a little when I hear your favorite songs come on my phone
"Drama Queen" has forever been ruined for me
It was my nickname for you, like when I'd jokingly call you short
Even though you're taller than me

When I sang yesterday I thought you'd be there in the crowd
And I thought I was gonna cry when I couldn't see your face
But hey, everyone grieves in their own ways

I grieve randomly, moments I can't understand
When I'm sitting in a movie theater and don't hear you eating popcorn
Or when I'm talking to people and I think I hear your name
But it was just another word

Like when I thought I heard your voice and got excited
But you aren't here anymore

Each passing year brings more and more distance between us
And I wish I could rewind
And tell you it'll be fine

But you lie there on your hospital bed and sweat through the sheets
I sweat through the sheets in the summer with my fan turned on high
And you warmed up to me just fine
I showed you my art and you asked me about the future
But I don't know about your future
I don't know about your past
All I know is your stupid face was never meant to last

And now I'm here I'm filled with tears
Fake nails and hair done
I hope that maybe I'll see you tonight
Though you're far under the ground

Comments

This almost brought me to

This almost brought me to tears. I love the way you started it, "missing a dead friend is a strange thing". Stating the topic of your poem so jarringly got my attention. I think everyone can relate to this because we have all experienced some form of loss, whether it is as great as yours or not. Beautifully done.

Erin | Sat, 05/30/2015

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

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