I remember when you used to sing and play the tumbi
smiling, laughing, enjoying
despite suffering internally.
I found your death maddening, confusing. Why would you do such a thing?
I blame me.
You were a good friend to me.
I couldn’t save you from your drinking.
You put on a brave face
I couldn’t see you were suffering, dying.
I couldn’t save you
I was too busy trying to save me.
I relied on you to make life bearable
You drank yourself to death,
gave up. That’s terrible.
Was life really that unbearable?
Your sadness, you masked it,
Still couldn’t believe you were gone
Seemed so surreal.
Did you really die?
Were you ever even real?
Did I imagine all the fun that we had?
All your smiles and all your laughs?

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