|
||
|
Haiku - Tuesday Friend, Wednesday's Child
|
||
|
feeling ill today, not because i caught some bug. he made me this way. seeing him online i quickly acknowlege him he says, simply, "hi" what was the problem? i asked him why he vanished. "controlled destruction." that's better, i said, than chaotic destruction. it still sounded bad. and it was, really not a better thing at all. he dreaded living. "i looked at handguns three weeks ago, just today. i even wrote a note." "my two closest friends i told to f*ck off and leave. i will change or die." and there he left me waiting, watching, wondering what i should respond he signed off right then and left me there. me, perplexed. i tried to call him. he did not pick up. i told the machine my hopes, that he would call me. i waited for hours. i tried again, but nothing, so i hopped back online. there he was again. me, i thought it was good news. i should've guessed. i tried to call you, but you didn't answer me. will you be ok? "don't worry" he said. "take my name off your lists now. don't email me again." "or call or stop by, or i-m or i-c-q. you don't care at all." "i could've been dead three weeks. you would still not know. f*ck off and goodbye." Matt Latham Send in your own haiku |
||
![]() |
||