It's that time of the year
where I am succumbed in solitude
where everything surrounding me
is tied to love and affection
where i leave home and see happy families
go to school and see seemingly perfect friendships
and barely escape without seeing infatuated couples

It's that time of the year
when i recognize the world
for the glory it could hold
when every individual that fights
for the other 9 months of the year
can be at peace with their rival
where cheer and community are ever so present

It's that time of the year
when i realize
that all i have is coffee and a computer
that the only thing that i can call my own
is a 15 inch screen with no interesting content on it
a back-back weighed down with a number of textbooks
and a camera with no subject to photograph

It's that time of the year when i realize
that the only person who I've ever aspired to be
who I could spend every second of every day for my entire life with
has been inside the earth for six years
and that no one has taken his place
no one is that important to me
or seems to care about me to his extent

It's that time of the year when i realize
that I have spent years trying to get friends by being myself
and haven't gotten a single hit
that I am not invited to parties or sleepovers
or even the simplest company
like going to a movie and making jokes
or walking together and having a deep conversation

It's that time of the year
when I don't care about school
because the american education system
is about passing, not about learning
it's just an obstacle every child must overcome
before being set free
that time, when school can no longer be my escape
because even there, I am alone

It's that time of the year
where I am constantly reminded of Him
where I am teased with the idea of seeing someone like him
where I actually get to visit his family, my family
where my niece's chemo
is making me remember
the second I saw his bald head for the first time

It's that time of the year
when my life consists of nothing
where every person around me
complains about what they have
when they don't realize
what it's like to not be spoken to
past 3:45pm, when school is let out, every day
when peers complain about their parents
not giving them what they want
when mine will tell me to leave
after a second of my voice
when I haven't heard the words "I love you"
from ANYONE but those who pity me
for months.

It's that time of the year
when I am engulfed in solitude
forced to watch the world around me
relish in holiday cheer
family, friendships, love,
things I haven't known, or felt, for so long

It's that time of the year
when all I have to do
is sit, alone, in my room
and do that which I typically know not to allow myself:
think.

She could stand alongside the Gods,
with her Greek and imposing figure.
She seemed to know the true meaning of grace,
grazing asphalt with her presence.
Her gentle legs brought upon silent admiration,
her cinched waist accentuating hidden curves,
it was as if her body held a soft prowess,
dominating the art of anatomy.
This statuesque beauty held no shame in her step,
she was rhythmic and lyrical,
I couldn't keep my eyes off.

Her aura froze into my mind and possessed me,
when I saw her I saw nothing but love,
I would pour my soul out at her feet,
And could drink her attention for an eternity.

I caught her one day,
myself embodied by lust,  
and truly analyzed her reflection,  
She was every bit the Greek goddess I'd envisioned,
but without any spirit.

She was no warrior, no goddess controlling any aspect of the universe around her,
Her majestic locks were sun-kissed,
Her smile as luminescent as the moon,
Her physique truly touched by the gods she walked amongst,
she could compare to no other mortal being,
but beyond the aesthetic poetry that she embodied,
she was  as good as darkness.

She seemed to have stolen my life, my light,
taken away the sun, the stars, and the moon from me,
she engulfed them to create such beauty,
but having done so, there was no light left to shine upon her.

She was Medusa disguised as Aphrodite.
She knew the language of love, but not the content.
She turned my carcass to stone, so that she could steal my light,
And under her spell, i could do nothing but let her.

Seeing your face does not mean much to me anymore
you are your own person after all, you are not his spitting image.
But your presence is enough to revive his spirit, if only for a short while
and once again I see all of the joy he made me feel
I see all of the laughs, the hugs,
and more than anything I see what my future could have been.
You make me think of him being proud of me
and leave this ****** bittersweet emotion laced into my blood.

But when I leave you, my perspective shifts.
I see all of the loss, I see his bones crumbling and his hair falling,
I see all of his pain all over again,
and recognize all that I've done that would disappoint him.
I remember that he can't be there at any milestone of my life
and how much I still need him.
I see all of those faces, over and over, promising me he'd be proud
with pity in their eyes all over again.
When you leave me, I lose you,
and I lose him all over again.

You are in no way his spitting image,
I'm not sure how similar you both are anymore, actually.
But I can't see you without seeing him.
Without thinking of nothing but him.
And I can't let you leave
without losing him all over again.