Funeral for a friendMature

Something we all need to learn: WORDS CAN SAVE A LIFE!!!!!!!!

It’s funny how much power can be transferred through just a few words,

I suppose this phone call had enough power to make my whole world seem to shatter like glass.

The news you were gone brought me to my knees with a numbness I can’t explain,

The news that it was your own hands that had done the deed shattered the numbness and introduced:

Guilt.

The kind a murderer feels when he’s about to step into the electric chair.

The kind a person feels when there’s blood on their hand.

All of the what ifs, all of the maybes flashed through my head, their phantoms reached inside to torture my mind with the knowledge I could’ve stopped this.

To this day I think your funeral was the hardest thing I’d ever had to gone through.

Your casket sat there in the middle of a room full of sobbing people,

Ones who cared.

But I suppose you never felt that, did you?

You looked like you were sleeping in that casket,

Like you were floating through a pleasant dream…

But reality struck my heart when I got close,

All my hopes that maybe this was just a nightmare,

And that maybe I’d see you again,

Crumbled when I came close and touched your arms.

The long sleeves on you hid all those scars,

That ran up and down your arms,

Ones that ate away at your body,

And your soul.

The ones that ripped you away from us all too soon.

Your parents were a wreck,

They clung to each other like children lost in the middle of a storm,

With no shelter or hope of the sun.

I wonder if they could have you back how much they’d give up…

Would they stop fighting every night?

Would they hug you and tell you they love you?

Would they have taken back every cruel word,

About how much of a failure you were to them?

For just one chance to have you back with them?

I think every person in that room,

From youngest to the oldest,

Would’ve given up anything to have you still here.

But time doesn’t work that way,

You can’t rewind it.

We can’t take back all of the things that we did wrong,

We can’t give you all of the maybes and what ifs that we’re holding in our hearts now.

It’s too late for all of that.

So I’ll wonder for the rest of my life why I didn’t say something,

Why I didn’t take a little bit of time to help you,

Why I didn’t keep that razor from running down your wrists,

Why I didn’t wipe away your tears and hold you to make all those thoughts go away.

I wonder how many tears God has cried up until now for you?

Did he cry when your demons brought you to your knees?

Did he cry when all of these people didn’t lift a finger to help you?

Did he shed tears when you prayed for him to make it all stop?

Did he let out a sob when you ended your life with a razor and tears?

I do think he’s crying now over how you were treated by his “People”.

How they never regarded you with anything other than a glare down the nose and a mocking gaze.

Not with the love and understanding they’re supposed to contain.

When you came in as a last resort to try and stop yourself.

So I’ll say my last goodbye with these crimson roses,

And a thousand memories of you haunting me.

 

 

The End

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