heaven was calling your name for years.
you are dead and i
do not know what to do with myself.
in the fallout of your death i am listening to songs that break my heart with the thought of you,
my eyes screwed shut,
trying to memorize the smell of your old jumpers
i want to commit to memory
that i felt loved the last time i saw you.
– you never liked poetry, but i always found it in your presence.
(i should have thanked you more)