open letter to a fb fren

let's get this clear it's not
where you chose to post your poems
that elicits my grief, it's more

i thought, since we'd met, shared meals
dreams, nightmare, parent's health, joy, tears--
that we were friends. so when you went
sending your regrets silent,  i realized i was little
more than a way to pass the time
, keep voices at bay perhaps

perhaps i brought them on with my requests
perhaps gentle prodding is not what i do best.

i do not blame you, i'm aware of your weaknesses.
but one of mine is, i fear,  forgetfullness.
i have to cling to pain once caused for if not
i'll do it all again, surprised anew at heat's hot.

i've lost a lot of friends in the last
few years
. end of the worlds do that.
people drop off, rise up in rapture,
 semi automatic their entire email list.

i musta been caught in several crossfires,
but the collateral damage
doesn't seem to be hurting my waistline.
i muddle into work, barely buzzing
 carrying pollen in a sling on my back

mostly i gave up on  resurrection
when my end of the world
stood me up. but it musta found
a lot of my frens, whirled them up
in a tornado and deposited them
in entirely seperate timelines
of contiguous realities.

i peek in from time to time,
an honorary denizen, to visit
those who moved into a higher plane
still planting some beautiful
 gardens of gravel and ghost.