dont, or, at least pretend to.
2. write poetry about them. let all of your poetry be about them, make it clear. so people come to you after slams and say im sorry for your loss. make them think they died. remember it was really you who passed
3. let the swim into every detail of your life. cook meals and wish you were eating it with them. make playlists of their favourite songs. get tattoos thinking about them. let them sleep in your skin.
4. reread your texts. listen to voicemails. read letters over and over again. let their voice be what rocks you to sleep and nightmares of them crying again jolt you awake. let them steal sleep from you. they deserve it more.
5. start crying again. you stopped letting yourself cry months ago. start, and dont stop. cry when you have that dream about the again. join them in their sorrow, but let yours be a different kind.
6. learn to hate them. what they liked, they way they moved. teach yourself to despise them. you mightve ruined 'us' but make it their fault. move the weight of the sky from your shoulders to theirs.
7. pretend youre teaching yourself to love yourself. start wearing your binder to sleep. it might make cure dysphoria, but it will not cure the bruised ribs. 'meeting people' will become finding people to hook up with. 'going out' will becoming staying home and drinking till youre sick.
8. pretend you do not still love them. lie to yourself, lie to your friends. 'im fine' you say, 'im over them' you are not. you are stuck under them. they are the rock, and your depression is the hard place.
9. dont call it depression. dont let it be. tell yourself to man up and get over it, like medication and therapy is for crazy people and you are NOT crazy.
10. slowly, let yourself forget. let yourself stop reading the messages. stop writing the poems. stop looking at your tattoos and thinking about how they loved the moon that night.
11. again, stop. stop drawing, writing, thinking. forget about your schoolwork and remember your bed. forget about your friends, and remember your bed. forget about eating, remember your bed
12. take your friend's advice and eat something. lie to them and say you feel better. lie and say youre happy. start lying again.
13. 13 was our lucky number. i think that has something to do with the 13 parts of you i cannot let go of.

Perhaps I mightve been a lobster
My backwards spine and plate,
Perhaps as human I am fitter
Perhaps maybe,  a good deal bitter
The stars dance looping circles
Casting their lives brightly,  tightly around
And I am stardust,  true,  and you
As well were once a star.
We could've been lobsters,  but
We lived,  and came so far
And so's our fate

I spend half my life in baths
But I feel rather *****.
I'm a writer at loss of words,
Speechless.
Perhaps my education wasn't enough,
The praising of jesus mightve not worked
For I am ever so unethical.
And so I'd like to drown exactly here.
In my excessively bad and cryptic poetry,
Envious of other's talent, opportunities and lifes.
On my way of trying to seem a new human I forgot who I was and who I am.
So back to the drawing board... Which never existed and will never exist.
Routine living and avid hopes.
Haunted by an image of me that will never catch this lifetime.
I've no-one to read this and no-one to read me
And it kinda feels lonely.
I think existence is meant to be lonely,
**** the "social creatures we gotta be together" ****.
At loss of words, ***** and unethical.
A filthy paradox of human life.
Am i not the epitome of human existence?
The one thing I've have never dreamt of becoming,
resentful, abhorrent and alone.

Raised a slave to mental-disorders 
Momma bear hibernated when it came to LAW AND ORDER 
No Papa bear but a ton of 
WILD ANIMALS
I love Mother Nature 
but HATE her MAMMALS 
I received the most love 
and healthy interaction from 
ACTION-FIGURES and 
STUFFED ANIMALS 
heartless creatures 
with no brain damage 
Raised a slave to mental-disorders 
Peta mightve been more alert than child services 
As I served my 16 year sentence 
If only I was a dog it would've came 7 times sooner 
Now an adult by the government's standard 
I AM FREE to deal with 
THIS MENTAL BAGGAGE

i havent been a human for a while.
mightve been a great ape last time.
or a lesser ape.
or, yes, a raccoon.
something with a functioning hand.
fingers and a thumb.
to grab at something.
something that i needed.
to get what i needed.
to keep being that species,
long enough to live until i died.
to become some other animal
called man.

and now to be a man,
grabbing what i can,
long enough to become
some other animal.