Not Even The Candy-Man Can

It's come
to that point
where your depression
now supersedes everything
including us.

We don't talk
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,

I tried to make
you smile.

There once was a time
our mindless
and my dry wit
used to get
a real rise out of you.

I tried to help you
turn things
and I guess in a way,
I did.

We both said goodbye
and hung up
the phone.

rolled over.

By Bryon D. Howell

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