Sometimes I wonder
whatever happened to that girl
the one I talked to
'til 2 am about everything
about her intricacies
and weaknesses
and vulnerabilities
and hopes and dreams and regrets
I still dream of that girl.
The one that would hold me tight
on nights where cold cut far past skin
and on days when the sun shone second brightest

I still dream of that girl.
and hope she's doing fine.
I hope she still writes poems like before
with ink flowing like blood
I hope she gets enough to eat
she's always been so thin
I hope she remembers to love herself every once and awhile
and I hope she still remembers me
because I remember her
and I don't think I'll forget soon

please.
remember me.