I miss you
God, how I miss you
I've never missed anyone the way that
I miss you
Right now
Why can't you be here?
And I don't want to miss you
I know
There's no hope in yesterday
But only in tomorrow
Hope that you'll return
How naive of me to think you'll return
I know
It's just
I miss you
Its hard
Being without you, living without you
Anything without you
Is pain
Because part of me knows
You don't miss me
You're not writing poems describing just how bad
You miss me
But yet I still can't stop
Missing you
I guess after all that we've been through
I'm allowed to miss you
Sorry to be a bother
I just
Miss you

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I stare at your picture
Until I forget that you are gone.

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I stare at the clock
Until I lose track of time.

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I stare into nothing, fooling
Myself into thinking I ever knew you.

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I forget reality and
Think that you were just a dream.

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I fear losing a dream;
I miss you so much.

it has been one year, eleven months, and four days since i last saw your face
since i watched your hand raise to your lips like a nun in silent prayer in a farewell
just for me
through the ***** window
as i held the folded up note in my hand like my heart that was drawn with the words i needed to explain to you that I was scared I would forget how to breathe with you gone
that i still needed you
and then you were gone, your body disappeared out sight
it has been one year, eleven months, and four days since you left
and now i have something to say
i was sixteen years old, and my eyes were bright
i was sixteen and the way you dragged your fingertips across my back as you walked by like mice scurrying across the floor made me feel more than i ever thought it was possible to feel
how naive of me
i was sixteen and when your rough lips grazed my ear like an animal stalking its prey my heart exploded for every single possibility that your words held
i was sixteen and every time my father struck me i could feel it reverberating through my bones because my tender mind hadn’t caught up with my aching body yet and i knew  i knew that you were wrong
but when you stroked my hair and kissed my fingertips and your hands grasped my waist like you were holding on for dear life the only truth i could hear above the frantic beating of my heart was that you wanted me
that you validated me
you weaved your hands between my ribs and slipped your fingers around my heart and when you left YOU RIPPED OUT MY HEART AND TOOK IT WITH YOU
YOU SHATTERED EVERY WAY IN WHICH I THOUGHT I WAS WORTHWHILE

i’m not sixteen anymore
and i spent one year, eleven months, and four days trying to make the pieces of my broken self fit together in the same way that they did before your eyes become the reason that i smiled every day
i’ve spent all this time trying to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault, wasn’t my fault, wasn’t my fault WASN’T MY FAULT
I DON’T CARE WHAT THEY SAY BECAUSE YOU CAN’T TELL ME IM WISE FOR MY AGE WHEN I LET A MONSTER REDEFINE THE TRUTHS I THOUGHT I KNEW ABOUT MYSELF
it has been one year, eleven months, and four days
I want my heart back

This is for you,
You who felt like the world was trying to smother you out of existence,  
you who felt the pressure to be the same even though we are all different,
you who was ridiculed and abused because of something you could not control,
you who needed to be free even as you were caged and shackled,
you who felt invisible and alone,
you who felt the need to apologize for who you were,
you who felt the pain was to much to bear,
you who felt the need to take a blade to your skin,
you who tried to numb the world into a blur,
you who were left broken and shattered,
You are a part of me as much as i am a part of you,
You who denied those who tried to bring you down,
you who defied gravity and took flight,
you who found yourself in the mist of despair,
you who are different and proud,
you who are once again whole,
you who found love in the end,
I am you and you are me,
This is for you...

last summer
I met a boy of 6 feet tall
he is two years older than me
he listens to punk rock
has an alcoholic father,
and his kisses
are sweeter than honey
and softer than silk

we spent countless, long, dreamy
cold, rainy, humid
nights
in my backyard
with the smell of too much hairspray
which I can not bring myself to smell again
and mosquito spray which I never apply anymore
11pm
4am
the hours passed by like minutes, seconds

under the stars
telling secrets
I was scared
scared of losing him
even though he was already lost

fading
disapearing
slowly and then all at once

hallways
silence
stares
me alone
him and her

11pm
4am
hours seem like eternitys, milleniums
crying
flashbacks
thinking about the us that will never be
blood spills on the paper
spelling out your words, promises
do I even cross his mind
maybe  probably not  no

I'm sorry I wasn't
skinny
pretty
funny
admirable
good
enough

I'm sorry

we didn't even say goodbye

goodbye, Brandan