little
boy blue,
won't you keep
the letters i wrote
you in the chest of
drawers at your bedside? won't you
lie and say you miss me when
all you miss is my words? i thought
i left you behind with the gloom but maybe
all i needed was to hear your voice again, to
feel you running around in my head, screaming the
words i could never speak. isn't it funny
how the ones we lose are the
ones we need ; the ones we
ache to let slip, almost
as if we were
never planning on
folding them
away?