She killed herself

In 2013 and this is the first poem I’ve written about her.

I got encouragement after the first line. It might have partly Ben written by the college version of me always wanting to shock people.

Here it is.

Title: Never Like That

My friend killed herself and all I have left is the pink leopard vibrator she got me in our twenties.

Everyone said you were a gorgeous African queen. I never loved you like that. 

The vibrator is long out of batteries. I never thought of you when I used it anyway.

I never loved you like that. I’ve searched the sky and the air. It’s predictable but I searched everywhere. 

I didn’t get the answer. Maybe because I never loved you like that.

The ones that did seemed to not have a clue.

But they weren’t looking for you the way I was. Like a dog trying to see its tail.

Because I didn’t love you like that.

My therapist told me it’s not like she’s your sister.

You are my sister. That’s how I loved you and will forever even though I only had one dream with you in it and I forgot it.

I used to try hard to dream about you before going to sleep but it’s like sitting on the toilet waiting for the shit to come out and it won’t; you just feel empty and give up. 

The same with memories. Think of when she was alive not her being dead they said and said.

I think about memories but I can’t feel anything. You’re long decomposed and far away; why would I get malaria trying to see your grave? Or go mad from the malaria vaccine. You’d be laughing at that but you can’t laugh anymore.

You’ve left me that’s all I know. I never loved you like that so it can’t end my dead friend.