Say Their Name

Shia.

Why did it take me 30 seconds to write your name?

Shia.

Oh Shia, how you’re missed.

Your soft smile, almost permanent smirk

As if you knew nothing in life is in our control.

Shia.

Blonde hair, blue eyes

Slim physique

Soft soul

Tough heart

It’s actually amazing you made it this far.

Shia.

You share your name with your uncle Josh

Who also died from drugs.

Did you know?

Did that scare you?

Did you willingly succumb to the same fate

Or did you try to fight it?

Josh,

Your friends called you.

Did they know Shia?

Did the ones who knew you as Josh

With savvy clothes

Large tattoos

Drugs

And beaches

And joyrides

Did they ever get a glimpse of Shia?

Who never raised his voice

Who gave me his glasses because I saw better in them

Who like national geographics

And sang when songs were needed.

It was Shia

Who lent his tefillin

It was also Shia that saved his friend from OD’ing

That knew him as Josh.

Josh was paranoid

“They’re coming to get me.”

“Are they outside?”

Shia came home for his Zeidy’s death.

Shia had cool Tshirts

And warm hands.

Sometimes he wore an earring and shaved his head.

One time he had long peyos that blew out behind him

As he pedaled his little bike real fast

Down the driveway

With a big grin on his face.

Oh you could eat that face!

Shia played

Pirates and bandits

Clowns and holy tzadikim

Wars and parties

Concerts and police chases.

Shia was quiet

And careful with his words

There were so many words inside needing to be said.

Shia hung all the lightbulbs in his brothers house

Without being asked

Because that’s who Shia was.

Shia was just a kid.

Shia never blamed anyone.

He never told on his friends.

Shia had so many words inside

I wish he would have said.

Shia.