To Emmett Sir

stiff as a board, plain as a wall

I grew up with you, I know you pretty well

last I heard, you were stressed searching for a bar

but you tell me your therapy sessions ended well

must be heavy carrying a family on your back

to be the head so young, too early and yet

knowing there is no one else to do what must be done

so you find other ways to walk through it

you call me up most nights, other nights you're silent in your room

I couldn't go a day without the knowing that I have you to go back to

you scold me most days, you aren't gentle with your words

but neither am I, so we work just swell together

I ask you to marry me, and you shut my pleads down quickly

quicker than the frustration that bubbles up in your chest

when I say, with meekness, that I haven't been eating lately

and I am not certain that this illness will rest

you're quiet with your loving, stronger with your caring

because last night you sent me a letter saying

you loved me and wanted me to eat well

not just waking, not just surviving, not just not dying

had this distance not been between us,

I imagine you'd have cooked a pot of rice,

eating with me, eating for me, when eating would feel so right

you are the witness to all my suffering

and the backbone to all my tiny successes

well, in my silliness, i tend to forget

there is a witness who wants to see me doing well

would be swell to do life with you but this will have to do

had we been children together, i wouldn't have grown up so blue

if I didn't have you, Emmet sir, to banter with

to bruise each other with silly words,

I'd be in a bloody pool, in fact,

I am fairly certain, I would've left the earth!

The Noresoup Jukebox