I wanted to write a poem
And name it
"Baby Carrots"
I was going to write about
how your favorite band
was Pink Floyd,
and how I see your face
in the surface of the swimming pool
behind your house.
I was going to write about
the bus seats
with burn marks
and scratches in the vinyl
that you left in the backs.
I was going to write about
your faded red hair and
how everyone laughed,
including you.
I was going to write about
your funeral.
I was going to write about
your bedroom door
and how when I look at it
I think,
that for maybe a second,
you're sitting in there,
fixing a computer.
I was going to write about
the empty space
in the room
when everyone's together
aside from you.
I decided to let you rest.
You need your sleep.
I hope some day,
if there is some world after all of this,
I see you again.
Just in case I don't,
I wanted to write a poem.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
I wanted to write a poem
And name it
"Baby Carrots"
I was going to write about
how your favorite band
was Pink Floyd,
and how I see your face
in the surface of the swimming pool
behind your house.
I was going to write about
the bus seats
with burn marks
and scratches in the vinyl
that you left in the backs.
I was going to write about
your faded red hair and
how everyone laughed,
including you.
I was going to write about
your funeral.
I was going to write about
your bedroom door
and how when I look at it
I think,
that for maybe a second,
you're sitting in there,
fixing a computer.
I was going to write about
the empty space
in the room
when everyone's together
aside from you.
I decided to let you rest.
You need your sleep.
I hope some day,
if there is some world after all of this,
I see you again.
Just in case I don't,
I wanted to write a poem.
I miss you, man.
I hope you heard everything I said in the shower.
Everything feels different. Everything's just incomplete and will never be whole again.
I don't want to fill the spaces you left.
I just want it to not feel so wrong.
In memory of Nick Marschner. 1996-2014.
