Look at me.
I do not tremble.
It beats in my hand  at a surprisingly steady pace.
I hold it out for you;
my dear, dear lover.*

To the world, you are long gone.
But I can feel your almost-warmth,
your almost-whispers and your almost-breath.

"Do not follow me." you said, hours before you were taken away.

I feel your almost-presence in my bones
like the quiet before mother nature's punishment.
I feel your almost-eyes almost looking at me, I feel your almost-hand being placed on my neck, your almost-touch, your almost-kiss.
Almost here.
Almost you.

I stand here, in the middle of the room that is the only witness to our first kiss. A sunday it was, 1:33 am.
The room I now spend my days in.
These walls are my space, this ceiling my sky.
Remember? Remember when you crept inside my now-forever-home,
your curls were soft, and you were the breeze, the moon and the entire night pouring in through the window quietly, so nobody heard you.
We would spend the night holding hands in my bed.
Our bed.

Some nights, I can feel your almost-hand, almost here.
Almost with me.

Remember when you bought me that knife for my birthday?
I had no use for it other than to open boxes maybe, but it sure looked cool.
You didn't have enough money at the time to get it for me, so I gave you five dollars. I paid half the price.
An almost-gift, but I didn't mind.
I never did.
I loved it.
I loved you.
I loved you so much and you left me.

But I don't mind.
I don't mind, I say, as the knife opens the door to my heart.
I only mind your not being with me now, Thomas.
I am young and I am in pain.
Nobody knows what we had and nobody can know. They'd hate me for being a boy in love.

It's okay, I don't want to be here anyways.

I reach in the door.
I pull out what's yours.
I hold it out.

I love you, Thomas.
I love you and this world is too small for what I feel for you.
My love for you doesn't fit in this universe, much less in this room.
I will never be able to erase you, I will never erase my love for you. I will never fit, I will never belong.

My heart is... so heavy. How I have managed to carry this inside me for so long, I do not know.
I am tired.
I am... so very tired...


Thomas,




lay with  me,




hold my hand, let's sleep,  but quietly, so they don't... hear... y...







...