Calling Poem by Brianna Stuckey

The drugs don't know what day it is, everyday.
but that is a good question, what day is it?
I remember walking left and you walking right.
And when I looked back, you were gone.
Gone into an abyss,
Lost in the high,
Forgotten by the drugs,
And left by the people you love.
Its no longer 'How can I help you? '
Its 'How many times will I try to help you? '
Yet the hurt I feel has no impact on the cloud you sit on.
It only rains harder, matching my tears as they never seem to stop.
I'm a mermaid on the shore calling for the sea.
Calling for an ambulance.
Calling for mercy.
Calling for you.
But the dead cannot answer.
And death is the coldest shoulder to cry on.