He says, "How many trucks will wreck
On that one stinkin' highway?"
"Many more," I said, "and then the world will end
And no more trucks will wreck on that highway."

in the day i don't remember
in the night i pretend i don't

We were best friends.
You were mine
And I was yours
We were inseparable.

We shared dreams.
You had yours
And I had mine
But they were compatible.

We talked of the future.
You shared your ideas
I shared mine
But they were includable.

High school came around
You changed
I did not

When we were young
Your parents were alcoholics.
You would tell me your fear
How you did not want to become them.

But soon the darkness crept
It grabbed us both.
I was able to tear free
However
You were not.

We were strangers.
You didn't look at me
I didn't look at you
We were irreparable.

I finally reached out to you
Asked how you were
What you were doing
Fine.
You said.

It sounded like you were trying to persuade yourself
Not me
But before I got the chance
To ask how you really were
You took another shot of that darkness.
You took another hit of that darkness.

And I took another step back.

i think a lot about how
things that happen to people make
them different, change their
ways and point of view.

i think about the boy
whose dad died in the eighth grade
from cancer. i think about
how someone who was a ****
at heart turned to words
and found himself again, found his
father in verses about aged trees
and kicking footballs so high,
they're weightless for a
little while.

i think about my former best
friend whose dad left her mom
when she was little, and it hurt
her so much that she took her fists
to friends and enemies alike. i think
about how she used a sharp tongue
to drag others down with her, to shrink
them and make her feel better about
herself; i don't blame her for that.

i think about the girl who is so
afraid she'll never meet somebody
again who will love her that she stays;
she stays with a boy who does not love her
or care enough to tell her how beautiful
she is every single day.

i think about the boy so hidden
behind weight he desperately lost
and the mountain that his superstar best
friend's voice has created
that when he finally got his spotlight,
he tattooed it across his forehead so
everyone knew that he is greater,
that he should be recognized.

i think about you and how
somewhere along the way, between
one of your best friend's tragic accident
and the year i didn't get to know you,
you gave yourself up
so unflinchingly to god and his
words
and yet you bathe in a pool of temptation
because the people surrounding you have
been all but blood since birth.

i think about myself
and how i picked myself up
and glued myself together after
three years, surrounded by debt
and a lack of the most important
thing to living, consumed by betrayal
and the death of a beloved,
drowning in you and feelings i didn't
know could be so strong,
all while encased in a bulging skin poisoned
with (self) hate and withering
with blackness.

i think about how people become who they
are, how we struggle to survive,
how we find ourselves. i think
about it so much that often i wish i could
understand every reason, every decision,
that it was okay to ask.
life is tricky, but everyone
has a cheat to make it through
each wretched level
of existence.

I don't think its
wrong to expect
from you,
the same respect
That I put in.
But how does one ask?
where does one begin?
I hate that I feel
this mad
and you don't
even feel bad.
Don't worry, though,
I'll just keep apologizing
no matter how much
I find it agonizing
a reciprocation is what
I'll be waiting to hear
Though I'll probably have
to wait a few million years.