Three years ago
I couldn't understand
the concept of missing someone
because they were always
a phone call away.
Until I woke up
to tears on faces I'd never seen before
and my rock crumbled
and my anchor let go.
There was a note left on the bathroom counter
with a sad excuse for an explanation
stained with tears
and soaked in red
signed with the desperation no one knew
hid among the demons under his bed.
His name echoed off every wall
and was captured in our pillows
and covered the papers
and left bitter on our tongues.
Dressed in black,
I sat with Danny's hand in mine
and the tears came to both our eyes
and we flinched when we heard his name
because neither of us saw the signs.
People said nice things
mostly for Danny's sake.
Because suicide is a sin
And their parents still had faith in God
and they needed the promise of paradise
to make it through.
But Danny and I knew,
that even if we had believed,
we didnt now.