was it not enough
that i loved you and
you loved me?
(and i was never even sure
of the latter
until you said it
right before you tried
to **** yourself
for the ninth time or so.)

you never said it
out loud,
not in specific terms,
not right to me;
my best friends told me
that is why
i should be wary
of how strongly i felt
about you.

but i'm the one
you thought you should say
your last "i love you" to,
the one to show all of your
pretty black and white
versions of pretty flowers
to. i'm dying, trying to
think of what your
night garden looks like
and where in it you wanted
your best friend to find you.