Live

When my mother
woke me up
that morning
I knew.

I knew what
she was about to say
and before she could even
utter a word
the tears were welling up
in my eyes.

“Don’t cry,” she whispered.
I could do nothing but
cry
and then she said it,
it all became too real,
he was dead.

I dared asked how.
“Drugs and drink.”
Those two words
should never be said
together, should never be
put together, should never be
together.

His brother was an addict.
If anyone was to die,
and I hate to say this,
it should have been him,
not Jamie.

Jamie was barely over twenty
with a lovely
little girl,
a growing family.

And with those thoughts,
for the next two days,
all I could do was
cry
as I awaited the
dreaded funeral.