Uncle Robert

I don't know the extent of your sickness
Your addiction
All I hear is tidbits
Of the hush hush
Whispers
Around the house
Needles
Drugs
Rehab
Are common words
Too common
He hasn't eaten for days
He needs help
Are familiar too
Too familiar
You're like a ghost in the house
Taboo
A four letter word
They think I don't know
To an extent I don't
I'm scared to know how bad it really is
I remember being with you
The good times
Rare now
Since your door is closed
And locked
With a note taped on it
Stating that you're sick
But you are not gonna get help
And that if someone doesn't like that
Tough luck
Well guess what
I don't like it
I know you need help
Everyone who whispers knows you do
You know you do
Yet you're hiding
From your addiction
From the whispers
From the truth
As I listen
And stare at the note
On your door
All I can think is
Get better
For me
And I can almost hear your voice in the back of my head
Saying
"Tough luck"

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