she reminds me of you sometimes
its not the smile that gets me
but more the carelessness for death she has

the same death found you too early my love
but that doesnt scare her

you took me on the roof to talk about college and life and starting on your own and i saw it hurt you
the shingles were rough on the back of my legs but i have a feeling those windowsill talks scratched more than just your skin

i watched your blood creep towards the gutter when you left your heart exposed
and i tried to catch it in waves of understanding in hopes that you could finally feel the breeze from up there

and when i said goodbye for the last time in a long time i could sense the finality as it resonated through the air and you laughed and said i'll see you soon
"i love you" dripped from your chapped lips and i thought summer never looked so good

but three weeks later you passed quietly in the night and you had no way of knowing you lied when you said i'd see you again

but now looking at her, amber,
her name
her ability to heal
her souls resemblance to the eyes of a boy i loved,

i know you were never keeping the truth from me
because i see you in her light heart
and i can taste you on that rooftop when she cries to me late at night about all the things that are weighing her down

there's sugar sand between my toes
and its late July
and its getting close to a year since you died
but im looking at her and im seeing you
and i guess i just wanted to say thanks for all the times that you snuck your way into the crevices of my skin and reminded me of how sweet life can be even if you're just a memory in sand

i tried to be subtle sweet with my love,
warm
with an early hour breath that spoke in foreign languages

and you were coffee
with your bitterness
black
like the unseen bruises on my lower back from nights when i couldnt sleep

your lips were too hot from brewing too long the night before
and i tried to talk but the words came out like bathwater next to your burning tongue

i learned the lemon in my cup is no substitute for creamer
and i was naive to fall in love with your morning drink cigarette butts

the weather's all the same here in this sea of things

you'll go on about coffee
and tulips
and rain
and i'll claim to feel the same

i tried to tell you that the waters were rough but you didn't listen and here we are in a hallway of boxes full of
weeds
and dishes
and a bicycle from your youth
but i cant find the tape

we seem to be like that, nowadays
a slight tone
or sly remark
but we never really settle
and the open lids on the boxes taunt me with the promise of shutting for good

we've been half-packed for a while but im not strong
and you're a good man
i just hope you remember that

and the locksmith comes on tuesday to take the chains off your heart
i'm just hoping in this sea of things i can find the key because ive been homesick for a while and im not good with fresh starts