Bedrooms are intimate. Showing someone exactly where you breathe is special. To see it, they have to worship every breath that goes in and out, even if your exhale is poison.
The walls still smell like you
Last week, I pulled the sheets off the bed. I placed them in the burn pile.
I do not wish to see you.
This week, I painted everything a new color, a darker shade.
I pulled down the Christmas lights and let my stars burn out. I placed them in the burn pile.
I do not wish to see you.
I ripped stuffed animals off the shelves and letters off the dresser. Even the photo album went in the burn pile.
I do not wish to see you.
The flowers off the desk... They were dead anyway.
I do not wish to see you.
Everything in a bedroom is sacred. Not everyone belongs there; you sure didn't. You kissed everything with fiery lips and charcoal dust and I am still sweeping up. I continue to find your ashes in my bed.
I do not wish to see you.
You took everything. You took my air and gave me back poison. I couldn't tell the difference. But the worst thing you took from my room is me.
I do not wish to see you.
I do not wish to see you.
*I put you in the burn pile. I see you in the flames. I see you everywhere.
I start to tear at the drywall.

the sun was shining so bright that day, peeking through my windows. i felt the sunlight burned my fragile skin and my heart continued to beat. walls of insecurities and emptiness vanished when i saw his eyes in the morning sun. his smile was full of mildness and brought me into a sweet melody of tranquility. he touched my hand and i felt the sunflowers inside my lungs are dancing in the bloomy atmosphere.

the clock keeps ticking and i woke up and i realized that you are not next to me anymore. all those scenarios i made inside my colored mind never exist, and it was just a daydream away. you did not love me and you are gone, just softly leave. but your voice was still humming inside my soul and i pictured your laughter perfectly in my 2 am thoughts before i go to sleep.

those summer days are over, my dear. those rhythms and happy voices are booming in my everlasting memories. i felt so grateful to know you in my life, beautiful boy. thank you and goodbye.

I miss you.
I miss you a lot.
Dear friend,
There’s so much I still don’t know- that I won’t know.

Remember? We laughed and sang and cried and learned and loved.
I do.
Remember when we talked?
We talked for hours about everything. About nothing.
I do.
Remember late nights with a high moon and loud music?
Dancing and sharing dreams.
I do.

I will always remember you. How cool we thought we were. How close we became.

Where are you now?
Why did you fade away without even saying goodbye?

Remember when you said we’d be friends forever?
I do.

I miss you.

A hard pill to swallow,
crushed up and snorted,
and taken bitterly like cheap motel coffee,
What a way to start the day.

I didn't think the last time I kissed your lips would be the very last time,
That you would shove me aside for someone half decent, and a dull flamed heart.
And that's when I think:
I am trying too hard.
There is still time, there is still time.  
I've got an hourglass in my head and my heart pinned to my sleeve,
My chest pounding with anxiety and I attribute it to butterflies and give all my love to some strange boy with flowers in his hands,
nothing worth falling for.
I reward myself with a sour taste in my mouth and a thousand metaphorical knives in my stomach.
It's okay, it's okay.
All wounds heal in time,
There is still time, I know.