The Quiet Needle and the Missing Voice

Dealing with the loss of my best friend due to a drug overdose

The news arrived in sterile, breathless words, A closing chapter for the silent birds. It wasn't age, nor miles, nor slow decay, But a sudden shadow that stole James away. The needle's quiet promise, a final, cruel disguise, Left a broken silence mirrored in our eyes.

I search the city for the ghosts of you, The back booth laughter, the wild things we would do. I see your face in every crowded street, And feel the echo of your missing feet. The world moves on, indifferent and bright, While I am anchored to that final night.

They speak of choices, a failure and a flaw, But they never knew the complex soul they saw. They didn't hear the dreams you held so tight, Or watch you chase the darkness toward the light. The kind of friend who showed up, rain or shine, Your hand-drawn map of complicated design.

Now every song we loved is stained with grief, A memory that grants no sweet relief. And all I'm left with is this hollow space, Where my best friend, James, once held his rightful place. I wish I could have fought the thing you fought, Before the final, terrible lesson taught.

The drug won a battle, cruel and complete, But it will not steal the bond we made so sweet. Rest easy, brother. I'll carry you within, Until the day our journeys meet again.