Hugo

Hugo

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

I broke down in your living room two days ago.

I bet you didn't know that; you weren't there to see it.

Your mom gave me a hug and told me to be strong; told me that I was probably better off this way.

Despite the tear stains on my cheeks and the band aids on my heart, I defended you.

I told her you loved her, even though you do the worst job of showing it.

I told her you had a lot going on; told her that I was just collateral damage.

Told her that I'm used to it.

She told me to save her number in my phone in case I ever needed anything.

I left a paper bag full of your things up in your room, a few feet away from the place we first said "I love you".

I made sure to turn out the light on my way out.

Your dog trailed after me as I left.

He whimpered as I opened the gate, barked at me when I told him goodbye.

Even he started to cry.

But where were you?

Somewhere laughing; working on your next joke?

Somewhere smiling, thinking up a crazy "what if", planning your next escape?

You aren't even brave enough to tell me the truth. 

Not strong enough to tell me goodbye.

I am tired of always having to be the strong one.

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