Today i woke up, walked all the way to the overpeck park overlooking the frozen lake. I remember how much you loved this place, and so i sat there for an hour just thinking about you. And everything we talked about and everything we ever laughed about. And it was freezing but the cold didnt nearly compare to how much im missing you. All week ive been just a walking shell, harboring every ounce of detachment to my emotions and to my inability to feel anything but numb. I thought something was wrong with me, because all week ive been finding solitude in unfamiliar places and burying myself in unfamiliar faces in the hopes it would make all this easier. But this week you left us, and you were my best friend since high school and now youre gone. And i have no idea how to deal with it, ive made myself laugh to convince myself its not true, but in reality im a mess when im alone. You were the first person i ran into every single day in high school and the first person who would attempt to make me laugh when i was having a bad day. So no,i cant say im going to be strong today when i see you at the service and i cant say that im going to express any emotions because its just who i am, but if i do its all going to come out like water ripping through a dam. You impacted so many peoples lives and made friends wherever you touched ground, you were light to people who had never known a true friend or had no reason to believe there was any left. And everyday i carry your image, i carry your ideas and the things you taught me on how to appreciate those who have made you happy, how to laugh when things aren't always the best and how to never take someone for granted because one day they'll be gone. And ill keep that same promise we made in high school until the day i die. Everyone's talking about you and not a single person will forget you, you truly are an inspiration and i will miss you. And i promise ill think of you often, im just being honest. Thats all i can offer. Thats all that i know how to give. RIP Chynna.

Watching muscles ache from the stress in your back
Waiting for bones to break from the weight of what you lack.
I would spend all my time helping you find truth,
And it really cuts like a knife knowing I can't save you.
And it really eats me inside,  knowing i cant bring you back.
AND I CANT TELL WHAT HURTS MORE.
PIECING MYSELF TOGETHER OR PRETENDING IM INTACT
THE FACT YOUR CONTACT IN MY PHONE IS JUST A MEMORY
OR THAT ILL NEVER BE ABLE TO ACCEPT YOUR MORTALITY...
Because saying goodbye hurts the worst when you know it's the final word
It comes across like a curse and I can't believe you said it first
So now the final word on the final page
of the final chapter of this narrative we made
Is my weak conscious whispering words through my mouth,
the very words I prayed would never come out.

I keep clinging onto the past and hoping the future will be the same,
But now I cry and laugh knowing the past would not remain
And I would argue with God, every night I would lie awake
And lie to myself, hoping all of this was fake.
But fate has a funny way of rearranging things.
It comes in unannounced and misplaces everything.
The hours are ticking and they feel like forever.
But forever came suddenly and it feels like nothing.

Because I got a new perspective on general anesthetics
When you finally went to see Jesus,
and all your family learned how to believe in a void,
because that's all that they could see.
Cigarette smoke and broken words,
My heart became the platform for everything they hated the most,
And I stayed clear of the lack,
Hoping somebody would come by and cut this rope.

And I wrestled with the idea of taking your place,
But I know that if anyone deserves a break from this world of pain,
It's you, it's not me.
And I'm still asleep.

It's not about being there for me, it's about respecting me enough
to tell me why you're not.
So I'll just slip back into my sleep,
There's a ghost in my casket .
and most nights, I wish it was you.

If you never break youll never know how, to put yourself back together. And if we never fall down, youll never learn how to brush off the dirt on your knees, and tell yourself, this isnt me, im free and this is not all that i can or will be. Or wont be, whats the difference? Is my self taught fascination for a life i can only dream about, my own undoing? or am i simply reacting to the chemicals procreating within my head, all assembled to make one thing clear but unsaid: That im alive and so are you. Even when it feels like the night resembles the reflection of who and what weve become deep inside, well if the tides can change then so can we and well flow just as eagerly and carelessly, but with such beauty. All of this it amazes me, and i can only picture it in somber incandescent shades of dreams but reality and sleep paralysis are all interconnected and if i hadn't said it then i know you've thought it. Flawlessly sewn together, were the moments of our lives, and we walked through every door not knowing that the lights would be off or that the walls would have voices. Speaking and listening, just as much as we were hopelessly suffering without telling anybody.  I knew more about you from just looking at you then i knew about myself, you spoke in secrecy and silence, but the words from your mouth resonated in vibrant violence. Almost definite and deafening. And maybe im not saying a word to you, but im also not admitting a thing to myself, Half whisper, half melody, i sculpt this with your image. This all comes down to rules in poetry. But when the sun breaks through the window pane. The glimmer and gleam peak first, and on my desk theres a picture. A memory suspeneded in time i guess, this makes no sense why i keep here on my desk. But part of me enjoys teh way the light seems to amplify it. Inanimate but it speaks louder then i ever could, and id show you what i meant if i ever could. Im not getting any ideas on how to act about this.. And if the waters calm, if they should ever decrease, then let me know exactly whats the point of this. Redundant suffering, well wheres the progression in that? Is it hard to except that the only talent you lack is the fact you cant admit you think about death often? And maybe not death in a coffin, but the death of your mentality, your ability to feel. Youre losing all motion, youre looking for pleasure, some sort of defeat, it all turns to anger and danger. Well maybe the grass isnt always greener in your neighbros yard,it looks so pristine how it glistens how it comes back to life in the light. But perhaps you can look a little closer, climb over that white picket fence, and tkae a gander at how the grass i just weeds but perspective is a visual disease.

47.
I heard my own voice break, stutter once then stop it. I heard
A sentence started confidently halted by the sudden absence of a word.
Stumbled and I sputtered trying to find it back, something once so simple gone now. When you first met me, did you know you’d show me your scars?
I had a heavy heart, she carried a door, it’s shattered pane all wrapped in plastic and she asked if I could fix it, come by a little later help her put it back on hinges. “See, I’m far too upset to lift it and it’s not for my house,
It’s my mind's.” When you opened up the door, what is it you thought you’d find? But you see i never fixed a single thing in my life, and whats worse i dont know what im doing. Im attempting to make sense of this. Categorizing apathy with sanity, but one of the two I surely lack.
So i guess well just drown it, with poetry, liquor and repress any other facts.
But the pills made her sleep too much. And she couldn’t keep happy as a result so one day she just gave up on taking them.
And that day she had called you, she’d locked herself outside of her mind.
She was spiraling and spiraling and tumbling down into darkness.
Losing all faith in the light, the night whispered in her ear:
"If you dont want to live, theres no reason to continue here"
How quickly did you get there? And what were you thinking while pulling up? What fears flashed in front of you, taunted you, walking to knock on the door?
I remember it. That story you told me came back clear tonight here while writing. And you should know the feeling never left me-the weight of my heart-when you showed me the scars in your words, when I looked in your eyes and I heard what you said how you probably would’ve died were it not for to care for yourself, and how someone had stopped you. How you seemed to look through me to some old projector screen playing back the scene as you described it on a movie reel, as real as the minute when it happened, that memory moving behind me. Because this is still a huge part of my life, and its getting harder to find the difference between a pen, liquor and a knife.
Theyll all cause me harm,  one will be temperate, the other will leave a permanent scar on my arm.
And I sit in my apartment.
I’m getting no answers.
I’m finding no peace, no release from the anger.
I leave it at arms length.
I’m keeping my distance.
From hotels and anything and blood on the carpet.
I’m stomaching nothing.
I’m reaching for no one.
I’m leaving this city and I’m headed out to nowhere.
I carry your image.
Thats me being honest
And if you hear me, I think of you often.
That’s all I can offer.
That’s all that I know how to give.

45.
I think I’m losing you, but I will never regret choosing you
I didnt make these choices, but i didnt help undo them
Maybe were not lost, were just misguided,
But if you were the liquor, id have you over and over and over again
Because its not the silence that will rip through my head
Its the idea that what ive written is left unsaid once again and again and again
So when we read words, we write what we truly experience
Even if theyre not spoken aloud, its like were hearing it
Because I am in pain, and for now that will be enough
And the ones around me convince me that I was the only person who was dumb enough to believe that you and I had hope.
But now I know even after you began to let your emotions slow the only reason I stood alone was because I was the only one who knew the real meaning on not letting go.

Everyone wanted me to see that we could not thrive, so gouge out my eyes.
Because if this is reality then I guess I’m not alive,
Because I don’t know a life in where I can’t make things right.
And when life teaches you to drive and you finally say goodbye
And you won’t let me stand by your side
Ill know that though some feelings are hurt, none will have died.
Cause I used to stay up at night and picture myself looking into your eyes
Shouting as you would sigh “how dare you think you can fall asleep with water dripping from the kitchen sink, how dare you think you can fall asleep with all these little leaks in this home we built in our dreams”
A picture is worth a thousand words or whatever people say to me.
It’s hard to believe when your mind is lost and in need,
And all you can picture is a memory inside of someone else’s sheets.
A prayer that nothing will keep,
A hope that light will seek before the dark sinks too deep.
Or at least the sinking feeling inside of me will decrease when the release of perceived dreams burn in the flame of feeling free.
So feel free to be free if that’s what you need.
And if someday you feel alone and everything caves in when you try to breathe, but cannot.
Because breathing takes too long, and death seems much closer.
Because the air is too thick, and your lungs just cant commit
To the re-appropriation of decisions made in false associations
Know that you are not alone as far as I can see,
Because you could speak to me, and though my tongue wont move
It doesnt mean, that im not listening, it just means, ive got things to say
But some things are not worth saying, theyre worth writing
Through this I have realized that if I were God we would have all just died,
Because i no longer feel blood coursing through me, i no longer feel alive inside
Being numb isnt a way of life, its a death sentence, and im at the end of my sentence, so end this.
And what good am I if all I can create is a projection of my own mind.
A dream of finding time to remind you that I’m still here and I’m not fine.
Maybe someday we can talk about ourselves and we can talk about the weather.
How December is cruel but January hasn't been any better.
I wrote you a letter, but i never sent it
So it sits on my desk, just waiting to be opened, and noticed;
Whenever you leave I don’t care what I’m remembered for,
I just want to be remembered.
Because even if I failed you at least I tried,
And if I had a chance I’d give you one last kiss and I’d bite down on your lip;
And I’d try to puncture it so you’ll never forget that time,
And honestly I know sometimes life will take a turn for the worst,
And sometimes life will even hurt.
And I know some days, some days you’ll be afraid of the lessons you’ll have to learn
And some days you’ll even feel burned,
And all that i have left are these words.

But I always get what I deserve.

41.

I tried looking into her eyes to make sense of my own life,
But found senseless realizations, I was reckless and she was justification;
A vacation from the monotony I lived in.
And avoiding risk felt nice until I realized, I was avoiding purpose.
And it’s all new but I enjoyed her,
I still do,
At least I think because I don’t want to live so empty.
And I have this tendency to complicate things better than I break things and she was somehow caught in the in between.
And forever means forever and that’s what it will always mean.
And life is a reality except for when it’s a dream.
And those are the moments that I can’t seem to think,
But I make sense of my mess by making sense of her and me.
And this fear keeps me alive,
And I could try.
But this fear fuels the flames,
That’s why I feel like I’m going to die.
Cause she kept a part of me close by and I liked it the best I can.
And now that I know who I used to be it’s easy to be happy with who I am.
And that’s where she came in.
A half-baked smile and a heart to pretend,
But prior to then, feeling was nothing more to me than a vacation,
A vacant motivation,
To avoid the means it takes to reach any real end.
A sense of salvation,
But also an element of bitter hope,
To cope with the rope that was tied around my neck.
And the saviour I hoped for was chased away,
Way back then,
When I found vices to take the place of all the things I wanted to be.
And I lost sight of me,
But I was told I could be anybody.
And I thought I could find purpose
In wanting someone who looks like me
And I began dreaming or sinking,
Most nights they meant the same thing.
And when that salvation finally found me,
It was traded away for thirty pieces of silver.
Seems like that’s not too much I guess but I sold my saviour for a whole lot less.
My two best friends,
Acceptance and a mirage of fake happiness.
And now the words I use to cling to as my refuge,
Now torture me in my head.
Forgive them father they know not what they do,
And that’s my only truth,
That I can’t sleep at night
Because of me, and because of you
Dreaming and reality, you tend to exist in my both
Except in one i get to speak to you again, and then it ends
And i wake up, all over again, so i sleep
And I can’t get these things right,
And salvation escaped when she came into view.
And now I’m hoping my whole life isn’t mistaken as you,
But there’s no way of knowing,
When all I’m doing is coping.
With my own pride.
And my past would fight with me hoping I would find truth,
But it’s never a good idea to start a fight with a man who has nothing to lose,
And I’m empty.
My heart is caving in.
And for whatever reason,
I finally let somebody in.
And I don’t know what love is.
But I’m growing.

Some of these have purpose, others are searching for it.
Some of these words have homes, others are now abandoned and wander alone.
You can decipher what you believe, these words will come to mean
But in the end, its all in your head, only an author knows what its meant
I cannot say my life, is perfect right now, but now creativity flows
I cant lie and say im happy right now, but these poems will guide the way home.