I remember the first time I watched the great Gatsby.
Your legs propped on my own,
Sailing in the land of happy dreams
You slept.
While I watched the most heartbreaking movie of the 2014.

You never realised how much that movie meant.
Never conceived how much  
Words and acts could drive a person

It was at that moment
As I watched Gatsby fall
His dreams shattered and his heart ruined
That I was hit with the reality.
Last nights drunken actions were more
Than just movements or simple words.

To me atleast
It all meant more
Deep down inside
Than you could ever have understood.

And though you hardly ever mentioned
The ongoings of that particular night,
It stayed with me.

And as Mr. Carraway spoke
Those last tantalising words of love,
I promised myself.
One day I shall tell you.
One day I shall have the courage Daisy never did.
To admit once and for all,
To the universe that I love you.

It still smells like human iron in your pool.
There's a crack in the concrete where the bullet stopped.
It still smells like human iron by the side of your pool, there's a stain.
I still can't find where that bullet went.

I always thought that your "love" of the higher life was overrated.
Nobody ever talked about how great it is to be rich as much as you did.
Even though you talked about it so quietly, most of the time.

You spoke a lot about Daisies.
I'm more of a Lillie type of person.

There are a lot of people in New York, Gatsby. Too many people in New York.
New York only needed you, Gatsby, but it looks like New York didn't want you anymore.
That's not sad though, is it?

Carraway's book is like gold.   I bookmarked eight of my favorite pages in it with yellow cigarettes.  I'm too afraid to smoke them.

When your old mansion was bought I expected to see you as a ghost in it,
you weren't there.
That green light across the bay isn't there anymore, it's red now.
I believe I'm sleeping in the same bedroom you once did.
You aren't one of those ghosts that haunt a house, you haunt a human concept of want.

I wish I'd never bought your house.
I'm going to tear this place down.  Along with Nick's old place next door.
The memories here in these empty, furniture filled rooms, are unbearable at best.

Of course they're not my memories, but I'd be a familiar person to you if you knew me.
I smash and break things, and then retreat back into my money and vast carelessness.

Farewell Jay Gatsby.