It's a tale as old a s time. You never know
how much of a difference someone made
in your life until they're gone. I've known
that for a while yet you never truly
understand it til it happens. I'm laying in
my room right now, and I've just been
thinking. I tried pretending it didn't hurt me
and that everything was normal for the
past few days, but it all came crashing
down on m e today. All the things that I
may have found annoying are now things I
wish I could do again. His white hair
everywhere, him constantly going in and
out of my room. I always slept with the
door open in c a s e he wanted a place to
sleep, but always worried of him shedding
everywhere. I've been thinking of all that,
and just trying to power through it. But as I
was in the shower, I was thinking about my
clothes. My basket is still currently
downstairs and my clothes are still drying,
so l need to put the clothes that are in my
room on the love seat, but I don't want
buddy to get his hair all over them... I broke
down crying. I'm sorry if we didn't treat you
the best Buddy boy, but I always loved you.
I would do it all and all again if it meant we
got to have you back. You are a good boy,
and always protected and cared for us.
You're too cool to forget Budro

Love you, and thank you, Thunder Buddy

I don’t want to die,
I want to cease to exist.
To never have been born
And never have lived
For my soul and body to disappear
For any memory of me to be gone
To dissolve into nothingness and
Never have been anything at all

I feel like I'm a waste of perfectly good air
Everyone hates me
And I think I hear death calling my name

Sitting like a stone,
Why have we grown?
The moon’s following you,
On the street, walking alone.

Thank you to the eyes for showing the sun rise,
But sorry for ending of with late night cries.

Thank you to the brain were all my memories lies,
But sorry for being so pressurized.

Thank you to the skin for making my organs safer,
But sorry for ending up using like paper.

Thank you to the heart for showing right track,
But sorry for ending up with many crack.

Thank you to the years for letting me hear,
The beautiful music of nature so clear.
But sorry for making them endure,
Criticism that was too severe.

Thank you to my soul, so kind and so true,
Born with love, with a heart that grew,
But sorry for letting others take,
More than I ever even known.

These are not just words of mine,
But a feeling of every depressed soul left behind.

It's June the 9th—
I'm pensive about having
a figure so significant.

I've watched my dad pull an engine
from a Nissan Sunny, alone—
fix it, reinstall it, alone.

I've watched my dad shirtless every morning,
praying in tongues.
We never owned a rooster,
never needed an alarm—
only my dad's voice, praying in tongues.

When my dad speaks, I fall silent.
I become a fool—
a listening fool.

I've watched my dad move shrewdly:
once, when school opened
but money wouldn't stretch,
he bought old batteries,
sold them as scrap
the same day—
so I could pay my fees.

I'm pensive about having
a figure so significant.

I'm baffled
by his patience.
He sits in rooms thick with noise,
conversations crashing over each other,
but barely speaks—
still, patient.

I praise my dad.

I wake up
and yet,
no hiccups
no headaches,
just the love,
I understand you.
Keep thinking,
we are so different,
but underneath
our personal hells,
is the same well......