He was the most
Most...
He was my best-friend
My boyfriend
My brother
My lover
My home
He was...
Lost in himself
Stuck in himself
Incarcerated in the darkest pits of addiction
He was always trying to be someone that he wasn't
Himself
He was the rose that sprung from the concrete of his fractured heart
He was the torn-up, worn-out, too-small, wrinkled-up, mystery-stained t-shirt that you never wanted to give up because it held too many memories.
I guess that that's what it was
He held too many memories
Too many memories
Too many memories
And that's all that's left now
Too many memories