It's come
to that point
where your depression
now supersedes everything
including us.
We don't talk
sometimes
for days.
When we do,
you sound more
and more
like a saturated mop,
being dragged
from one end
of a cold, flooded room
to the other.
Those are the very words
you used
to describe how
you've been feeling.
I only added the word,
cold.
I tried to make
you smile.
There once was a time
our mindless
chatter
and my dry wit
used to get
a real rise out of you.
I tried to help you
turn things
around
and I guess in a way,
I did.
We both said goodbye
and hung up
the phone.
You
rolled over.
By Bryon D. Howell
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