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For my friend

I’ve been drinking again.

So, you’re reading my poetry again.

This one is a little directionless,

but I’m sure you’ll understand.

My sister came by today. 

She didn’t know I smoked. 

I hope she didn’t see the cereal bowl.

We have been using it as an ashtray,

it’s overflowing. 

I had wanted to cry for a long time.

I did and to good news too!

It wasn’t mine. 

I think I’ll take that part out.

I had something important to say.

I cannot remember now. 

You remember what I said at the start.

I found out I might graduate next May.

I’m terrified, my friend. 

In so many ways, I am a child. 

Could you come back around?

Show me what to do? 

It’s not a real request.

Don’t you see? 

It’s not so bad. 

Sometimes it feels that way. 

I was never asked much. 

Being a part of somebody else

makes me feel apart. 

Does that make sense?

No, I suppose not

for I have a hard time being honest.

Can we write letters to each other?

And can I smile when I get yours? 

My friend, it’s all bright lights.