When the girl, I loved, died,
I locked myself in her room
while her parents were in Arizona.

I went through her things
and found
**** photos;
A few where she seemed
ashamed
and a few where she
liked her body.
She had a gummy smile
and in others
she looked down at her *******
while having a blank expression.

I found empty
alcohol bottles.
Cheap bottles of wine
and a bottle of red,
stuffed with tissue paper.

Under her dresser
I found an unopened
letter she intended to
give the boyfriend before me,
where she admitted
to being ***** as a teenager
and how she hoped
it wasn't too much
baggage.

I threw out the photos
and
alcohol bottles,
but not the letter.

I don't know why but I kept it.
I occasionally read it,
because it's her,
and I love her.

I told my friend
and he called me a
Halomaker,
because I made sure
she was remembered
as an angel.

haze    lifted,

lipped oh's, pink
hope and
shiver-syllables,
gone.

I wish sometimes
and sometimes I
forget I have the ability to
wish.

I hope sometimes and
sometimes the idea gets caught
on the way up my
spine

There are good places
where your mind can go
and there are city parks
where little gardens grow
and there is safety
in phone calls
to your best friend
and there is more than
just one way
in which a heart can mend
and bravery can be the days
when you leave your bed
and strength can be
the times when you say
what is in your head
if you feel scared to be alone
and like Hell has become your home
there are people
and there are places
that will help you to feel better
just give me your address
and i will send you letters
your mental health is important
and your feelings matter
pay attention to the cracks
before you completely shatter

i'm fine when i can feel someone next to me
when my words lazily roll off my tongue and into heavy air
when someone's subtle and quiet gestures suggest
that i am somebody they like to be around
i'm fine when the world feels warm
from the love that swarms in and all around it

it's the spaces between that get me
the 53 seconds of time it took between
my thumb pressing the "send" button and the reply
hearing the laughter coming from the other room,
but not the joke preceding it
eating cheap dinner alone in my bedroom
while watching my favorite 90's sitcom

these gaps, these pauses, they are the ugliest parts of me
there is not a second of these moments that go by
that i am not wishing for a reassurance, a validation
a reminder that i am heard and noticed and loved
and that i have a purpose here, and reasons to stay

i need to be reminded that i have reasons to stay

don't talk to me about addiction
when you can still brush your teeth sober
act like you're too troubled to be a friend to me
when you're getting high, you just dont care

when you call, i get that feeling
like i just finished sobbing
choked up and dried out and exhausted
i get drunk and want to talk to you anyways

this is not about me being angry
this is not about how i used to see us
naked at the west end of humanity
the last two living souls, me and you,
naked in the wreckage of the world,
the opposite adam and eve

i should've understood sooner
that there's nothing romantic
about being the villian, no matter
how very much in love you are

this is about me, asking you to let me tell you
about the times i almost jumped off mountains
and then let me tell you why i didn't

there's more to being human
than embracing the mistakes you make
building a home out of apologies and
"i've been ****** up"s and
"you don't deserve this" -
when they tell you that it's okay
because you're only human,
they're reminding you to embrace
not only the bad, but the good too

i used to think you just wanted to warm your hands
but i realized you really do want to watch the world burn instead
what an awful way to have wasted all the love i had