I couldn't seem to find where you had gone.
The road narrowed down to a small passageway in the woods,
getting lost in the crowds of trees surrounding it.
I walked until my feet ached,
until the gravel beneath my naked toes cut ****** rock sized openings into my skin.
You were nowhere to be found,
I realized that now,
but I kept walking,
as if each step could somehow guide me to you like a compass,
pulling me in the right direction,
promising an answer.
I wanted to know where they had buried your body,
where your still decaying bones lie a clean mess inside the earth, but I couldn't find it,
I couldn't find where you had gone.
The moon had once before,
promised me a source of light,
but now,
it only provided a terrifying, crowding darkness.
I wanted to lie underneath it,
urging her out of the sky and onto me.
I wanted something heavy to plunge me underground
so I could worm myself to you,
find the body that belonged more to me than it did, you.
I just wanted you back,
and if I couldn't even have that,
than a piece of you to hold onto;
something I could look at to know you were once a living being, once a boy I loved and always will.
I walked back then,
after allowing myself the refusing will to move on.
In the impala, on an abandoned road,
I pulled your cold blanket over my own decaying body,
trying to wrap the ghost of you around me.
Pushing my nose into the wool,
I smelled the last remaining parts of you.
I closed my eyes,
not willing to imagine the small space where you should be,
vacant.
After all,
how were you supposed to wake up there with me,
when I was half gone myself?
