A poem for a friend after her boyfriend’s suicide.

Nobody gives a shit until you’re dying.
No-one listened to your pain or your helplessness.
You’re gone.
And now someone has to pick up the mess.
While its the last mess you will ever make… I’ll sweep the glass,
it’s my heart that can’t un-break.
Still, no one gives a shit until you’re dying.
Oh dear friend! I am sorry you didn’t hear.
You skipped dying straight to death,
So now I must be clear!
No one gives a shit when you’re dead
because that’s when you’ve really made your bed.
No one cares about the money you lost or never found.
No one cares about the pieces of trash you left around.
No one cares about when you ran your mouth more than you should.
I would take our shouting matches anytime if I could.







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