Its been 3624 days
since I last saw you.
I had to look up the number.
If you had told me
3623 days ago
I would quit counting the number
I wouldn't have believed it.
I thought every day would only matter
as days since.
And now
I'm not positive
I'm remembering the right day.
the 15th sounds right
It was a Friday, right?
I think it was the 15th
I promise I'm not forgetting you.

I told someone about you the other day.
I said,
"yeah, thats actually how my best friend died."
they said sorry.
I said,
"Thanks, its okay, its been a long time"

I promise I'm not forgetting you
Its just been a long time

I can only hope
you aren't the new me.
Maybe he loved you
and held you
and stroked your face
wiped your tears
and you had no fear.
Maybe he never hurt you.
Or
maybe
you can't sleep.
You're scared.
And you think
no one
understands.
Because no one understood
when it was me.
I can only hope you aren't the new me.
If you are,
that's on me
as much as it's on him.
If I had spoken up
gotten help
gotten free
you could've been safe.
I hope you sleep well.
I hope you aren't the new me.

They told me I needed to forgive you.
I had to be
the
bigger
person.
You needed them
more than I did.
They didn't believe me.
I wonder if they realize now
I wonder if they lie awake at night
thinking about how they told me
to forgive you

Then

You watched me smoke my first cigarette.
You gave me my first kiss.
You held my hand.
You were the first to call me beautiful.
You were the first to touch me.
My first love.

Now

I still have nightmares.
I don't know how to sleep.
I can still feel you.
I can't forget your hand on my mouth.
I am still scared.
My biggest fear.

I kept those tights for years.
I thought,
maybe
one day,
they would make people realize.

Someone would see the holes
and the stains
you caused.
And they would believe me,
finally.

I realized,
I had to let you go.
I had already let you get away with what you did.
I had to let you go
from my mind.
From my drawer.

The white tights would never be enough evidence
and I could hear the holes
and the stains
as I tried to finally get
some ******* sleep

They invited him to dinner,
moments after he was done with me.
Minutes after his hands were on me.
After his hand was over my mouth,
So they wouldn't hear me say no.

We sat at the table.
I think I was still bleeding.
You asked them to pass the corn.
I prayed the ****** didn't break.
We prayed as a family.
Thanked God for having us all come together that day.

I felt the bruises form.
I thought for just a second,
they could be proof.
But then my father laughed at me
with him.
I didn't think I would be believed.

If I was believed,
if they thought they could trust
their little
drama
queen
they'd blame themselves.

They passed him the corn.

I stayed silent

You were so drunk that night
You fell again and again,
no one there to help you carry that cross.
No one helped me carry mine.
I want to be your Simon,
I want to ease your pain,
share your burden.
But I am too weak still.
My back is still broken
from carrying my cross up that hill.

You are nothing like Jesus.
But right now you both know each other's pain

I wish I knew you better
so I could tell you what others told me
the little advice that helped
(most of it didnt)
But I would have told you
it doesn't get better.
You will never get over
such a terrible loss.
You will however
get better
at dealing with it.

But you will have nights
you cant sleep
because your best friend is dead
you will want to be dead

You will have days
you are so angry
because people are happy
and how can there be happiness
when such a beautiful person no longer exists

The punks were alive that night
to celebrate
the one who wasn't.
They danced and drank and started fights.
They fell on the ground and they shouted his name
they chanted for the one who left.
His sister found him.

You fell into the fire
you kept yelling his name
your best friend was dead
and you were covered in ash
and you were so
so
so
drunk

The party got broken up
because you couldn't stand up
it took five people to get you up

I loved boring boys
nothing going on
but chaos in their head.
I spent my days
caring for their brains.
Those boys needed me.

Now my love is chaotic
never boring
caring but
terrifying
and
electric

I sobbed as they handcuffed you
and as you lied
to me
again
and again
(and again)

I pretended I believed you.
At least you weren't
a boring boy,
but I wonder
if you will ever need me

Don't tell me
I'm your best decision.
Don't let me think
I mean more to you
than I do.
Don't let me sleep on your chest
Don't call me sweetheart
or darling
or baby
when you wake me up
from the best sleep
I've ever had.

You had to tell me I was screaming.
I sat there,
Crumpled between two cars.
I wanted to know what happened,
If anyone was hurt
If I was hurt.
I heard screaming
So I thought
Someone was hurt.
You had to tell me I was screaming.
I just sat there,
And screamed.
Then,
I walked away.
I stood there
Crying
Listening to the sound
Of people running over the bits of your car
That were all over the road.
People stopped,
Told me help was on the way.
I didn’t need any help.
I just needed you to tell me
I was the one that was screaming.

I don’t know if I ever stopped

Your blood is killing you.
You are slowly being poisoned
being betrayed
by your own body.
You laugh,
as they take away 1/10 of your blood.
You laugh,
because one day your blood
will set off metal detectors.
You laugh,
so we are not scared.
I will not be as brave as you.
I will cry and be so scared
when they take away 1/10 of my blood
as often as they can
so my blood doesn't betray me.
I hope though,
that one day
I can be strong enough to laugh
so my daughter isn't scared
when they have to take
1/10th of her traitor blood

There was a boy
(There is always a boy)
who couldn't sleep alone
because he smoked at night
and needed someone there
to make sure he put the cigarette out.
He needed someone
with him at all times
to make sure
he didnt wake up on fire

I am terrified
to only exist
in past tense.

I can only talk about you
in past tense.
I can never say
you will
or
you are.
its just
you were.

Can you hear me
talk about you
in
past tense?

I'm too scared
to get out of bed.

Something bad will happen
if I get out of bed.

I can't go to work
because it means getting out of bed.

How can I be okay
if I have to get out of bed?

But
how can I be happy
if I don't get out of bed?

I wear those white tights
with the hole
and the grass stain
every time they make me
see you.

I wear those white tights
only for you
only so you can see
what you did
to me.

I wear those white tights
because they are no longer perfect
just like me
because you ruined
both of us.

I wear those white tights
so you will remember
so you will be ashamed
so you will know
I will never forget.

I wear those white tights
with the hole
and the grass stain
every time they make me
see you.

You stopped speaking.
Not a single word leaves your mouth.
I was scared
when I saw you
again,
for the first time
in years.
I hoped you were gone
forever.

You do not speak
but I know you are listening.
And worst of all
you are
watching
me.

I
am
afraid.

Just the way
you like me.

You are the girl
who speaks in poetry
You control every word
you count syllables
and understand rhythm
you can even rhyme  
without seeming silly.
You are the girl
who does not know tragedy
but can write about it.
You are the girl
who drinks wine
on her roof
and wishes she could see the stars
because that would be
so
poetic.
You are the girl
who is so arrogant
because you can speak
in poetry
and I can't even write it.

You told me smoking
would make me skinny.
You put your cigarette out
on my back
and told me
beauty is pain.


I still have the scar

You are boring.
I do not care
about your band
or your scene
or your beard.
I do not care
about your politics
or your love
or your family.
I do not care.
You are a trainwreck
and I hate that I can't look away

I miss the way
you would pick me up
and drive around
all night.
You always made sure
I would be home
before dawn.

I miss the way
you made me sing along
to your favorite songs.
You told me
if I didn't sing,
you would crash.

I miss the way
your voice sounded
when you talked so fast.
You would scream
but to me
it sounded like singing.

I miss the way
you would cry
to get out of a ticket.
The cops never knew
you and I
were up to no good.

I miss the way
you constantly talked
during movies.
You hated when someone
asked you to be quiet
as if they were the rude one.

I miss the way
you made me think
I would have you forever.

I once wrote
about my
poor
dead
girl.
I didn't capitalize anything
I didn't use punctuation
I just wrote
and made myself
and you
seem
pathetic.
You were strong
You stood tall
and
walked like thunder.
You lived
and breathed
and used your life
and your breath
to yell and sing and run away
you were brave.
You were a revolutionary.
But now
you are still
just a
poor
dead
girl.
And thats okay
I think

I was drunk
at my family reunion
when they announced
I won
Catholic of The Year

Is this my life now?

There’s a moment between
normal reality and
a world crashing event.
In this moment, he is not dead.
Not to you,
not yet.
But you feel something.
You know this is the calm
before the storm.
The air is beautiful
and serene,
but there is a foreboding presence
lingering.
And then comes the rain.

One less person,
who floated around life
in a constant fog
before
finally
drowning.

April showers bring May flowers,
but what do storms in February bring?
Frozen ground that must be
dug up
for him to be
laid to rest.
He never got much
rest.

"And I dont want to go upstairs unless its with you."
You whispered to me
Into my ****** ears.
We got high together
And you kissed my head
and you whispered such sweet things
you made me remember
I can be loved
I can be wanted
I can sleep with a boy
because I want to
And that night,
I wanted to

I got drunk
and I yelled at you
for picking him
over me.
I should have yelled
earlier
I should have yelled
sober.
I should have yelled
at him
and not you.
I should have yelled
years ago.
Back when it would have made
any difference at all.
I should have yelled
to the police
instead of staying.
Police reports
would have made you
believe me
instead of
him.
I should have yelled
when you called me the bigger person.
I am not the bigger person.
I am so small

I feel like a cigarette.
My soul is being ****** out,
I’m being used just for what they want from me.
My precious nicotine.
They're setting me on fire,
Flicking me between their fingers.
Pressing me against their lips,
Giving me meaningless kisses.
I am not unique, I am not special.
I come in packs of 20,
And handed out  to whoever asks.
And when they are done with me,
They step on me,
Press me hard into cold ashtrays,
Thrown out windows
To lie motionless on the side of the road
Surrounded by those just like me.
A useless shell of what I once was.

You called me beautiful
said it was the only word
that could ever describe me.

You called me beautiful
And told me I was the reason
you got up every morning.

You called me beautiful
to make me stop crying
it worked for a while.

You called me beautiful
so I would open the door
and stop hiding from you.

You called me beautiful
so I wouldn't tell others
what you did.

You called me beautiful
even though I had bruises
and scars.

You called me beautiful
even though you were angry
because I wasnt sober anymore

You called me beautiful
but only in front of our friends
so they wouldn't worry about me.

You called me beautiful
so I would stay with you
I had to stay

You called me beautiful
until one day
then you didnt say anything.

You got angry
when my poem was published.
It talked about love
and blood
and lying.
You were worried,
you thought people would know
it was our love
my blood
our lies.
Your mother read it.
I wonder if she knew
it was about you.
I wonder if you know
I still cant sleep