It Wasn't Your Fault

I remember that night, the day after Christmas

you began acting strangely around me and everyone

else. The way you made a swoosh, swoosh noise

as you dragged your feet down the corridor, but it wasn’t

your fault. Many people were wondering how you've

been and what you were doing with your life,

but no, you were not fine, you were not okay. I told you to tell

someone but you didn’t listen. You dropped out of school

and missed your high school graduation

for some hockey tournament in the States. Yeah, I’ll admit you

were very strange don't deny it to my face. Your daily

routine became sniff, sniff, sniff as you wiped your nose

with your index finger. That's when I knew, you my friend,

were on drugs. Nobody else noticed, but it sucked because

I did. But that wasn’t your fault you see...maybe those kids

shouldn’t have done what they did if they knew you were

going through shit at home. The thump, thump, ting I heard

wasn't your water bottle hitting the hardwood floor or the

baseball Jose Bautista gave you,

but the yellow glass bong you continuously kept knocking

down as you reached for another pinch full. That was your

fault. Every night I would hear the front door being opened

with a key. Shkk. Shkk. Followed by a loud bang as you

wobbled to the kitchen for a midnight snack, drunker than last

time. The next day you woke up at six in the evening, or as I

thought. Your eyes glowed pink with a hint of red, you

were high on the thought that maybe you should’ve

told somebody about those kids. Maybe not.

No that wasn’t your fault either.

But yeah, it’s okay now. We’re doing fine. The

yelling has faded and the house has become quiet once

again. You left with no sign, just packed your bags and

walked out the door. It's been years since you left thought,

I brought you a new set of flowers. But then again, all I

can hear is a loud bang and a scream. I guess that wasn’t your

fault either, huh?