The one person

(in memory of Marilyn)

Full moon,
a phone call,
and you’re gone.

You tried to be my friend, but I —

You were so much older, and I —

I let you come a little way,
then drew a line

I remained aloof,
didn’t want to give
yet more
of myself

and now you’re gone.

Never again will you tease me,
call me a pet name,
try to make me do
your bidding—
trying, too hard, to
connect

Never again will I hear you say
‘Come outside and talk’
to which I only ever once
said yes

Never again will your thin fingers
take one careful morsel
from my gluttonous snackbox

Never again will you ask me
for a drug to drown the pain

Now I understand
why you needed it.

Something bursts
— a rush of blood —
and you’re gone.

You were the one person in the room
who could truly see me—
the one person—

and now you’re gone.

What do you think?

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