...nevermore...
I can only imagine the feelings he felt...I can only imagine the scene...I can only imagine the pain that he felt; I can only imagine his scream. Oh, what a difference a day makes. On sunday, I touched his hand, heard his voice. That was the last time; how could I know? Life can be cruel, just so. It barely even registers, so into my catholic-style grieving...alcohol in my belly, churning and turning, calling out his name. We grew up together; every sunday we met...we played together as youths...no more. Never will I take him out; nevermore will we jest. All I can do is hold onto his name and count the days until we meet again. This drink is to Carter; this drink to his life...and death...I'm spent.
-Guppy
-Guppy