I'll lay my soul on your tombstone

Sorry I missed the funeral darling but
I couldn't quite handle seeing you so bare in your casket

A sight so painful like the cuts I made on my wrists

Those pearls gracing your neck still pale in comparison to your beauty

Now that you're gone there's not much else to say
My days are a little more grey as every thought if you turns my head

Maybe you'll walk through the door undead
Killing my eyes with that bright laugh and smile
But it's alright I guess

I'll keep your memory just below my surface
Living in your memory using all my favorite vices

I smoke those herbs to numb it all
Bowls after bowls token up like Thomas the engine
Trying to get as high as possible to laugh so hard my tears stop being from sadness and start being from joy

I drink this patrone to forget it all
Feeling the burn of my favorite whiskey hitting my throat and slurring words a bit
Speaking so vague not even I know what I'm saying.

But it doesn't help

You're overloading my system every once in a while
With those eyes as pale blue as the sky on the last day we met

Never opening again, **** that hurts my soul

My dear it may have been four short years but
It all feels like yesterday I got that phone call

Telling me you're fighting for your breath
Telling me you might not make it
Telling me it's a time for prayer
Telling me you've been killed

But here's the deal
I've never been the spiritual type
The first thought that comes to mind when I go in road trips isn't to pray for safety
And I'm not sure why

Maybe because I prayed more in my life in the two hours between those phone calls telling me you've been hit, and when you died

Maybe because when I needed Him the most he didn't come to my rescue like everyone said he would

When I was staring at white walls and florescent bulbs waiting for the next meal
I would reject because I wanted to be hanging from a rope and noone should try to stop me

When I prayed to Him about wanting to take my own life he turned his back on me
It was as if it was meant to be

But then I sat staring at four white walls lying on a bed of nails contemplating how I made it there

Then I think about you
21 was to young to be murdered.
16 was to young to contemplate suicide.

I guess my point has been lost in traslation

But just to bring this to a close it's that your departure did more than **** you
It killed my faith
It killed my self worth
It killed me

But maybe it happened to bring me here.

You know I always have to put this positive twist here somewhere

I've settled in the university of my dreams with friends I couldn't have thought better of myself.

I've started blossoming In my poetry
Spittin these words straight from my notepad where four years ago noone would be able to stare at me this long without my anxiety destroying me inside and out

My dear, if you were still here
I don't know where I'd be today
Maybe I would have found some different passion
But I think I'm happier where I am
Then where I would have been
Had you never been taken from me