Calling on Behalf of Friend

I don't want to ruin your life.
That's what she said when she called.
I thought she wouldn't, but she did.

Oh, she did.

An afternoon when the world turned upside down,
the call ripped out the soft, fleshy middle,
and left me exposed.

Concurrently stalked, and held hostage,
by her curiosity.

Explaining you couldn't talk,
weren't allowed to say why pieces of me
are undergoing a microscopic examination
by a stranger.

She doesn't want to ruin my life,
but now I can't move.

Everywhere I go, I feel her;
reading, analyzing, making notes about things
I've long since forgotten.

While desperately trying to find out
who you are, the cruel joke is,
she just keeps finding me.

Every word of mine now carefully chosen.
Because she need not know any more.
She already knows too much about me.

But it seems
she knows nothing
about you.

I wish I had come up with a different title for this.