i ate a can of spaghettios
in your honor
maybe it's not
such an honor
maybe you'd hate them
as much as i do now
but i still think of you
maybe will always
think of you
this time of year
the passive whatifness
of it all
i suppose we grieve
and honor in our own ways
i suppose you found your way
found where you belonged
because it was never to me,
nor i you.