People are very keen to tell you who you are.
You are kind, caring, charming.
You are a superb athlete.
You are a wonderful student.
A compassionate son, who never once raised his voice.
A loyal friend, who never once ditched me for Dan Wallis-Evans.
You are eleven.
You are spotless.
You, though, are one of those people who is happy to stand up and say "No, that is not who I am. This is who I am."

You are kind, caring, charming.
You are a superb athlete.
You are a procrastinating student.
A compassionate son, who stayed on my bedroom floor for three weeks over the course of three months because of falling outs.
A loyal friend, even if you ditched me for Dan Wallis-Evans.
You are eleven.
You will always be eleven.
Your existence isn't proving people wrong, anymore.

blue roses and unzipped jackets, looks like the cold doesn't want to enter your skin again so its painting guesses on the corner of silver st. and goat lane, you thought that saying its all good baby baby would make your crown look bigger but the diamonds fell off instead

She was intrigued
by a nameless feeling
time and again.
She had a vague guess
of becoming a pawn
in a mysterious game.
Who could say why she,
or what it all boils down to-

she would wonder
in silence often.

a world
of nostalgic
facsimiles.
i met someone

who looked
like you.
She looked at me

with the same eyes
you used to,

the cruel mix between
devil-may-care
and miserable.

searching vain, searching
ridiculous,
I make a joke of myself--

remember
the time
I bought a
scruffy looking
black mouse

from a pet store
at whim

to replace the one that died
when I
was 6

but I can hardly replace you
with this pale
stranger

but i can hardly lay
your own few-ounce body
to rest

I promised you I would never leave.
I swore to myself I would never let you go.

I've still kept my promise.
I still haven't let you go.

But you've just disappeared.
Vanished without a trace.