I have placed myself in this position, 
carefully. Treading as if I’m tiptoeing on glass, 
more worried about leaving 
bloodied footprints behind 
than the deep gashes on the soles of my feet.   

There are no words, no incantations, 
no prayers baptized in a different language,  
that I can recite to conjure out 
the demon of depression.   

& even if there were,  
I am a hack exorcist.   

But still I am summoned to do so, 
exorcise 
by the panicked pleading of my ring tone.   

I answer  
& greet a voice I have not heard since high school.  

His tonality is not drenched in desperation 
nor loosely sewn with sadness  
as he confesses his affliction,  
only the suffocating monotone of indifference— 
& that’s what scares me the most.   

I can sense the distance between us.  

A distance beyond geographical measurement,  
but as small as the last drawn-out letter of a whisper.  

A distance,  
a distance, 
a distance …  

Fractured questions escape my lips,  
r e a c h out to him  
but separate within the silence.   

Thou art the Creator of all things,  
visible & invisible …  

Words become just as lost as I am 
within the dead air  
that serves as the only connection 
between us.  

Thou art the Creator of all things,  
visible & invisible … 

He tells me he tried to kill himself 
last Wednesday. 

From the snares of the devil, 
deliver us … 

There are no words, no incantations,  
no prayers—
yet I’m praying,  
praying,  
praying in that barren desert of faith, 
cracking & crumbling, 
knees parallel to the sands   
all for a god  
that isn’t  
here … 

What is this escalating desperation? 

An attempt to save him 
or an attempt to save myself?  

An act of selflessness 
or a rationalized savior complex?   

& I hear myself say: 
What difference does that make 
if the results 
are the same?  

*  The lines “Thou art the Creator of all things, visible & invisible …” and “From the snares of the devil, deliver us …”  are excerpts from the Exorcism Prayer of St. Michael the Archangel.  

J.A. Handville is a poet and visual artist based in Syracuse, New York. In between consuming copious amounts of coffee, J.A. Handville creates collages and poetry often themed around the difficulties of love, mental illness, and the human condition. J.A. Handville’s work has been published in Unvael, Into the Void, Dissonance Magazine, VAINE Magazine, and Humana Obscura. You can find him on Instagram at j.a._handville.