InElegy

I cannot write an elegy
with elegance or empathy;
I may be a narcissist
and of course you’re deeply missed
but I can’t get past the vision
of your last and worst decision

I cannot write an elegy
in broken-hearted sympathy;
though it does not make me proud
nor would I say these things aloud
I’ve lost you in your misery;
I cannot write this elegy.

Should’ve seen your mama cry
heard the whispers asking why -
was it fear or bleak depression
overpowering regression

Off the wagon, off the meds -
what was going through your head?
had to laugh into a cough
how you’d smirk and shrug it off

It was impulse, not intention -
just a reckless self-suspension;
not a plan to make an end
or sad reunion of your friends

she’d crash through the bathroom door
cut you down and love you more -
would’ve made a killer story
darkest night and dawning glory

I cannot write an elegy
with wisdom or profundity;
I may be a selfish ass
lacking tenderness or class
but, you know - revolving doors
sorry you got stuck in yours

I cannot write an elegy
with lily-scented poignancy;
I can’t say it’s not appalling
that no tears of mine are falling
but reduced to honesty -
I cannot write this elegy

At the service I recalled
found a marker and we scrawled
on the floor, we signed our names
before the carpet layers came

I’d forgotten, and resent
that I wondered what it meant
as your sister choked her way
though her grief to have her say

It was too long since we spoke
too much stout and shiftless smoke;
it was no one’s job to save you
don’t regret the love we gave you

and I bet as things went black
you shed a wish to take it back;
Jesus saves, the devil rents
a misstep’s undue consequence

I cannot write an elegy
befitting of your legacy;
although more than you’d confess
in both breadth and giftedness
there was far too much remaining
such a waste defies explaining

I’ve given up this elegy
but maybe failing is the key;
if our best should bear our witness
let our worst become forgiveness;

I will you, if you can me -
I could not
write
this