i have bruises on my knees from falling every single time no one was there to catch me, when my sadness to took over my mind and my body. i had no one. i have scars on my hands for every single time you’d cut me with the same excuses of why you can’t be there for me right when i need you the most. i have little bruises showing up on my right side, from beating myself up, for blaming myself, for taking everything out on myself. when we died, i’d make other boys my bandages, to stop my body from bleeding out because you were what was keeping me under control, but you were gone. oh they never meant anything, they were nothing, i don’t even remember the sound of their voice. but holy fuck i hear yours everywhere i go, i see parts of your face in strangers, i can feel you in old songs we used to listen to, i remember your voice when you would sing them to me, to make me laugh. the other boys were just trying to put back my pieces but i knew you were the only one who truly could put me back together, i was cutting my fingers trying to put myself back together, i was too broken, they were too sharp and i needed you and only you. i can’t tell if this is beautiful or if it just utterly petrifies me. i need you more than the vodka i used to poor into my mouth to enter my body and take over my brain by midnight and i need you more than those cigarettes i had to get me through the next class, i need you more than you will ever know.