Untitled VII

Stapled together, were stacks
of paper that finalized
our chapter, but not the book.

One rosy faced, blue-eyed
boy ensured more chapters
would indeed be written.

Almost two years have
gotten by, and I wonder
where it is that time goes
when it leaves us stranded.

He misses you, I know that.
But he's also angry...

Because you cared more
about drowning your past
in alcohol.

Because you cared more
about a job who removed
the name plate from your desk
less than a week after you died.

Because you left without
saying sorry.

He and I, we reminisce
about you, mostly he does,
but I listen: adding funny
tid-bits about you now and then.

I didn't want him to grow bitter,
and he hasn't.
He's a fine man, with love in his
heart, and no fiery words
falling out of your mouth did anything
to change that.

He's my favorite chapter
of that book.
I would have endured you a million
times over to have him.