One More Last Call
With fifty-nine tears, I stare at the phone, wanting to
understand. I had your voice in my hand. Intense pain now
washes through our decade’s bones. I must be able to rinse it,
cleanse it and restart with a stable heart. Always layers of hurt
from you. Now there is another, my lost Brother.
We may never meet again, not as siblings or as friends, yet you
chose to bring our last call to a painful end! Distance and age
whisper chilly to me of a certain possibility, this call could be the
last call of all. I wonder, do you feel that, too? Does this sad truth
also shadow you?
In life’s darkness, two stars shine on; one is our Dad, the other,
our Mom. Dad could not take your constant rift of frightening dread
or bear your street life, so he mentally buried you in his head. Mom
could not handle her first born living so forlorn, her maternal heart
and head were torn. She could not sever the bond, so her enabling
continued on. Neither parent was right or wrong. Unbearable pain
made them desperate to survive your heartbreaking song.
I never knew what to do, but I sought and fought to do it right.
I would help, I would insist, but true help, you would resist. Each
approach to coax you towards a healthy life ended with me tripping
through your dark light. I’ve abandoned my hopeful persistence
by accepting that I’ll never have brother-relief, not in this existence.
For years my insides have churned as I daily pray for some informative
word about your wellbeing. I've even called morgues in your state
to learn if you were still among the living but no news ever shaped.
I’ve had a lifetime of watching you fill your own spaces by selfishly
passing thru daylight. Rather than climbing up to achieve a healthy
need, you've always sat aground and caused yourself to bleed.
Whether you’re in jail or living drugged on the streets, loving you has
never known relief. I gave you my all, walked all your dark halls.
Can’t we now have peace?
Please bro, on some near tomorrow, borrow another phone. Call me
and let us be the best of us, let us share love to enhance what is
left of us. Look to your heart and grant what I want, one more, last
call that love may be shown when next your voice is in my phone.
Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment