By Ashley O’Hare
A thousand days have come and gone.
I’ve spent too many of them alone.
The isolation becomes addicting-
suddenly it’s too late to reach out.
If tomorrow you got a call from me,
would my name remain in your phone?
I’m deeply sorry for being a lousy friend-
I didn’t want my issues to get in your way.
My lack of contact was not a lack of caring-
I wasn’t ready to hear what you had to say.
I wasn’t myself; nor could I play pretend.
With any luck
the future will be kinder
than its counterpart.
Name any special occasion;
name any day on the calendar-