Sister Morphine.

and if 
there's one thing we 
have in common 
it's the sensation 
of caving in on oneself.

my interior monologue is an 
avalanche matched only 
by the weight 
of the whisper 
that serves to articulate all 
that is her mind. 

I've never felt 
so lonely with a person. 

you could say 
we've lived a lifetime
of life kicking us in the teeth,
her with her fractured home and me 
with my family-shaped 
hole in my chest.
but we never had a pity party, pitied
others, pitiful in their 
party dresses
groomed to kiss the 
boy with braces
-we learnt to feign indifference
to sex and love and everything 
that reminded us of what we 
didn't have.

I listened on the phone to static
revelling in the reality
of her silent confession.

I lost what she never had 
and that wasn't something we had in common.
what do you say to someone who
envies your grief in comparison
to their life-long
void?
you say you're sorry, and let the avalanche
fall between the lines and over 
all that's left
unuttered.