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June 9, 2001
Things I will never tell you, my friend:
--How your father sounded on the phone that night
--What he told me
--How my heart, the space within it where you reside, collapsed in and on itself

--How it has yet to recover
--That I wonder (and fight against this head for the thought) how the pills felt when you swallowed them, if you could hear them clank as they hit the bottom of your stomach
--That I wonder if your stitches itch
--That your voice echoed in my phone
--That if you had died last Wednesday, I would have too.