They say 'move on'
don't saturate yourself in sadness
abandon any and all 'negative thoughts'
stray far from the past,
it won't get you anywhere.
I'm sorry, but were they there
that starry, chilly night,
where my breath came out,
steamed into the atmosphere
as a shiver ricocheted down my spine?
Were they upstairs incessantly calling
their father left and right,
only to be "Ignored"
and forwarded to his Voicemail?
Did they see me as I shifted in my
maroon, faux fur collared winter to coat
to reach out, fingers curled around the
wrought iron paint chipped handle
of the battered barn door and tugged hard,
just to open it?
Only to find you slumped over:
a heavy snore wracking your body...
the door had been ajar
because your weight was propped
against it.
I tried in vain to wake you up,
finally you roused.
Your blue-hazel eyes
were glazed in the light
pupils blown out like fallen stars.
And do they,
the people who lecture me
and who probably shut everything out
and are unhappy themselves,
do they realize how much I wanted
to save you?
Survivor's guilt,
I live with it.
I ask myself everyday,
why it had not been me?
I ask myself,
how come I couldn't
stop your Addiction,
when I witnessed
countless overdoses?
How come I woke up
in the morning
daylight piercing me awake
in the late afternoon
only to go downstairs
never thinking you were gone,
but just dozing peacefully
why was I the second person
to find you, Dad?
Why do I feel like it's
my fault?