Today,
They said there was hope.
They checked your heart with a beeping machine and watched it pound on the screen.

Today,
You smiled.
I joked you looked like you had mouth gear on with the tube down your throat.

Today,
I cried.
I feel you slipping and while I want to believe that you'll come back to us, you are already being taken.

I fear that tomorrow won't come for you, for us. Our lives together will diverge.

I only hope to join you again.

I've written a thousand words to you a millions different ways.
But your friendship cannot be described.
Your smile and the way it lifts my soul,
Your humor and the way it brings a smile to my face.
Your hugs and the peace they bring,
Your words and the comfort they give.
You remind me of my dad. The same critical thinking and opinionated positions. The same quiet as I relay my thought process. The same position you sit in as you listen and prepare to respond.

You remind me everyday that life is worth living. Because without it I wouldn't have met you.

You keep me fighting and your beautiful, incredible disposition reminds me to keep fighting.

I still get butterflies thinking about you. About the way it felt to paint you, about the way it felt to share my books with you and read your insight. About sending my first piece to you.

I still smile when I look through old messages and smile at pictures of you and your experiences.

I am so happy for you. For your growth and your love and your happiness. I have never met anyone who deserved it more. You deserve the world. Spread before you. You are an unstoppable Force of amazing.

I miss you. I wish I could see you more. Hug you more. See your smile more. You literally gave me a second chance at life. You still do. Though you don't realize it.

I write a thousand poems to you for you about you. You inspire me to live on. Stand up. You inspire me to live harder and think deeper. I genuinely don't know where I'd be had you not messaged me.

Thank you. And as always it is 10:27 pm... And I love you. Stay so perfectly you, my dear.

I lie awake, the silence of the old house unnatural
Unbearable.
My eyes won't close and the clock ticks by
35
36
37
Another moment and ill need to be up.
Starting again the overwhelming urge to step in front of a bus.
The overwhelming urge to overdose on insulin or slice my wrist just a little too deep.
I wake up to this feeling of death.
It greets me
Welcomes me.
Knows me now by name.
It hold my hand and comforts my soul,
Reminding me it will always be there to catch me if I fall
When I fall
For I will fall.
I have never been able to imagine my life after 25, and this year it was thirty but never after that.
The rate at which my vision increases is disproportionate to the rate in which my inability to see the future increases.
I feel lonely and overwhelmed and in a constant state of misery.

I feel alone. And like if I tried hard enough, maybe people would come to the funeral when I die.

Sometimes I just want ***,
I want to feel your lips on my neck
And your hand on my breast.

Sometimes I just want love,
I want your arms wrapped around me,
Embraced in your touch.

Sometimes I just want to be acknowledged,
I want to know that when I talk
You hear me.

Sometimes I just want to know,
Know that you appreciate me,
Want to be around me, near me.

I want to know that I'm not cloaked in invisibility.

For a moment I saw our faces
in the wrinkles of my sheets.
I saw your lips slip into mine,
Watched as your fingers caressed my cheek.
I could almost feel your touch,
As you pushed the hair back from my face.
I closed my eyes and felt it flush-
I took the feeling in.
But, when I awoke, the stupor gone,
You were no longer there.

Arguments are battle fields.
Our tongues the swords,
Our words the fatal injuries.

The scene plays out as strategy in the tents.
Your men versus his.
You pick the casualties from his side,

Ego,
Pride,
Trust.

He picks his from yours.

The blood, warm, soaks the earth between you.
Desperation in his eyes.
Mercy in yours gone.

You pick up your weapon,
He flies his white flag.
Afraid, he surrenders.

But he walked into battle,
And you take no prisoners.

You swing your axe.
His blood runs down your arms.
His body falls.
His head rolls at your feet.

You lift your head.
You're back.
Blue couch,
White walls.
Black fan.

He sits in front of you,
His face as though he's been slapped.

He started a war,
You finished.
No white flags allowed.

Mint gum reminds me of the smoke from your lungs,
The taste of burnt tar on your tongue.

Mint gum reminds me of your fingers on my cheek,
Of the kisses that would sneak down my neck.

Mint gum reminds me of your voice as it yells over an open window,
Conversations lost in the dark.