i still catch sight of your shadow
darting around hallway corners and past streetlights
the song you loved enough to play nonstop for days
came on the radio and i swore i could hear you singing along
you're buried six feet under
but you're still here
there's a hole in me, right between my fourth and fifth rib
that disappeared with you, disappeared from me
it should have been me that died
but you saved me and i hate you for it
it should have been me
those that died unfair deaths,
who still had unfinished business,
linger after death. you told me this.
you haven't reached your goals or lived your life to the fullest;
shouldn't you be back?
can't you haunt me a little longer and tell me about what you dream?
won't you come back?
they packed up your bedroom.
cleaned it out. emptied it.
every trace of you was thrown out with the blankets you made
pillows you hugged to your chest while sick
books you read when you wanted to escape
we wrote letters to our future selves when we were young.
they just came in the mail.
you'll never get yours, but i got them.
you never told me you wrote to me as well.
we were so young and innocent back then, with no knowledge of pain and suffering the future brings
you asked me to live a long life.
be healthy, be happy
that even if we're no longer friends, you wish me the best.
you're gone. you'll never come back.
but i'll keep you close to my heart and live to make you proud.
it's all i can do for you now.
you're dead, but that's okay.