I looked pointedly at his wretched face,
curled up in a snarl while smoking powder from a pipe,
delirious to the world and hostile to all it had to offer
"Mind your own business," he grumbled,
the friend I once knew, taken by some extraordinary power
as he closed his eyes, sedated, ignoring my concern

A week later.
"Hello?" is all I hear on the phone.
"I'm sorry to break it to you, but your friend has passed..."
I took his advice
and didn't show up to the funeral
I guess I really minded my own business

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