I’m trying to write this poem but all I can come up with is:

I ******* miss you.
I miss every little thing about you.
I want to go home.
But you were my home.
And you kicked me out.

I’m trying to come up with all the things I’ve been wanting to say to you.


But all I can think about are the tears rolling down my face
And how you used to hold me and kiss my forehead,
Dry my tears with your sleeve,
And tell me everything would be okay again.

I was trying to forget you, so that maybe I could move on.

But then I found our box.
Full of pictures,
Movie tickets,
Love letters,
The “C+A” ceramic slab I made for you last year,
And the letter I wrote to you while I was in the hospital.

I was trying to forget you.

So I taught myself to be numb.
I learned how to shut everything out.
I convinced myself I didn’t care,
Not just about everything around me,
But myself too.

I was trying to apologize.

But you didn’t care.
Nobody cared.
Nobody wanted to listen.
Everyone had already given up on me.

I was trying so hard, and I still am.

But sometimes I wish I could wake up on the day I met you and start all over again.
Other times I wish taking those 15 Tylenol *** had worked.