It hurt me to see you. You,
with your unbelievably broken life and
irreparably broken heart. Back then, it hurt me to
watch you support your little sister
with vibrant words and
warm hugs even as the ice in
your eyes cracked and froze
endlessly on repeat, swelling with a tide of
emotions that never broke.
It hurt to know that you would never
accept anything I offered you because of your
stubborn, beautiful pride.
It was so painful to watch your life,
so fast-paced and so dark and so emotional,
speeding its way into an abyss that I could not see.
It hurt me that I loved you.
It hurts me that I still love you.
It hurts me that you never had the
opportunities that others had, and that you
lived the way you did not because you had chosen to
do so, but because your weary heart wore a sign
that said you must suffer.
It is sad to think that someday, when I no longer
have your momentary smiles to hold onto,
I will think back to this moment and wonder
if there was anything more I could've done to save you.
It hurts that no matter how many questions I ask,
they will never be answered, because there
is no one here who understands that we can only
meet again when it is spring . . .
but it is winter now.
And it will be winter
*forever.

Today I confessed that I loved you,
but you did not hear me, because I whispered it
into the thumb hole of your softest sweatshirt.
You asked what I had said and I
only smiled coyly because I am wary to
say it too many times that it loses its meaning.
I hope that even though you didn't hear me,
the moment will be preserved forever
for us to think back and remember
that sometimes the most important
words are the ones that
are never said
but always
meant.

I dare not look up for fear of the brilliance of the sun,
yet I will never look down either
for I hide from the darkness of the smoky fabric
of my soul.
I do not look forward because I am afraid
that the strings which connect me to what is dear
will break and leave me reeling backwards
like a fish out of water.
I cannot look behind lest I be reminded
of all the mistakes I wish I could take back.
I will not look here or there or at
this or that because I believe I am weak
and lacking in so many things.
But in truth, I am just waiting for
someone to tell me that I am strong
and that I will make it, and that the only place
I need to look is
inside
of myself.