a poem a day while my heart is away*
this is not a poem about love, for once.
this is a poem about a dead best friend and how to move on.

step one: there is no such thing as moving on. every time you walk down the hall you turn to see if they're nearby. sometimes you find yourself waiting outside their classroom like you always did. you think of a funny joke and open a new text message, type it out, and remember right before you press send. at least two hundred times a day, their name tumbles through your mind and nearly dives off your tongue.

step two: it is okay to scream. crying won't happen initially; it's all throaty sobs and waterfalls of tears. you may or may not feel the urge to drive your fist through a wall, bawl into your knees, and stare at things blankly, all at the same time.

step three: you will feel numbness, and you will feel unbearable pain. they might come in short succession, and you will feel completely out of sorts.

step four: sometimes, it's more manageable. you can hear their favorite song, or see a shirt they would've liked and smile. other times, you may feel the need to throw up. you will hear the word suicide in class, or see a gun on tv, or watch a mother pick up a child with the same name, and it will hurt like nothing else.

step five: there is no such thing as moving on, but there is such thing as living. your best friend will forgive you for laughing, and smiling (and for being angry and sad and confused and jealous). you have two lives to live now in too short a time, so sob while you go.