when we were kids,
and i was hit with a toy
and given a black eye,
you were there to hold me
and try to make me feel better
and make the pain go away

now i'm sixteen
and i was cut by a blade
that my own hands were guiding,
your ashes sit in your bedroom
and i lie awake at night crying
wishing you were there to hold me
and make the pain go away

the thing is that
you are the one
who makes me feel whole

like cracks in the cement
and the slices on my pale
innocent wrist and the
spaces between my
fingers don't matter

because with you i am whole

but it's just that you
died six months ago and
ever since, it's felt like there's a
gaping hole in my chest
right where my heart should be

(a.h)