How does one go on after a suicide?
How does one continue knowing someone they loved wanted to end their life?
How can someone  stand there and lie while they lay in their coffin:
"I will miss her"
When you never knew her to begin with?

What was her favorite coffee creamer?
How well did she sleep at night?
Who was her first love?
Who was her last heartbreak?
How many bones has she broken?
How many tears did she cry over him?

See, you didn't know her. So why would you cry at the sound of her suicide?
You didn't know her like I did.

Her favorite coffee creamer was peppermint mocha.
She never slept at night.
Her first love was the one she wanted.
Her last heartbreak was the one she craved.
She had broken no bones.
She cried enough to fill the ocean over him.

See, I knew her.
You?
You pretended to for the sympathy.

i'M an empty shell
who pretends to be
**alive.

My words are but dust
From that time long ago.

I am tired of breaking my spine to fit your perfect posture.

The worst part is I truely did think you liked me

Have you ever
taken a picture
of a sunset,
just to realize that
you'll never capture
the true
colors,
the intense
emotions,
the full
beauty
of that moment?

Have you ever
taken a picture
of the crescent moon,
only to find that
you'll never catch
the unfolding
mysteries,
the brilliant
light,
the unwavering
loyalty
of that moment?

That's how I feel
when I try to
write poems
about you.

the restaurant
where we used to
hang out
closed down
the other day.

im not sure
if i am
happy
that there is now
one less thing
around
to remind me of you,

or if i am
scared
that you will
keep fading away
until you
completely
disappear.