My hands were clumsy

when she needed them to be steady.

But I didn't know how to calm them,

I didn't know what to say.

Maybe that's what friendship is,

not knowing what to do,

but pulling guesses out of

the dark

because you want to

be able to fix them.


When her heart was

ripped into pieces,

that's exactly what I did.

I stayed by her side for days,

reaching into the abyss that was

the place where her laughter used to be.

I grabbed a tiny fragment and tried to

superglue-bandaid-staple it back.


But you can't just do that,

that's not the way life works.

Her dad was gone and

it was far too soon for

words to fix it.

Silence silence silence

echoed everywhere.

In the floorboards,

in the way she breathed,

in the teddy bear he gave her,

in her little brother's gasps,

in her heart.


And Jessica I'm so sorry

that the silence

echoed in me too.