Today I cried in the bathroom of my work place because your mom snap chatted a picture of your bunk bed being taken down and it reminded me that we are no longer kids playing pretend. Probably if you were gonna come back you would have by now. How things always change but some how you stay nestled in between my rib cage. I think I’m trying to say I’m sorry but it keeps coming out as poems or hysterical crying fits or in any way other than managing to let the words verbally manifest. I’m sorry that I keep writing you poems but it’s been nearly six months and I still feel like something is missing. Like I’m lopsided. How I’d give all ten fingers and toes for you, but then I couldn’t write you poems. I wouldn’t have to anymore cause you would be here. I don’t write down the details to try to make you feel ashamed of yourself or drown in guilt. I just don’t want you to forget me the way everyone else seems to forget me. I write these poems so that I don’t forget you, because letting you go would be like giving up all ten fingers and toes, no more poems or words. Because it means it was all meaningless. The voices in my head prophets, always doomed to lose the ones I love. I’m sorry because you do not have to mend this and I keep asking you to. I’m sorry for all the wrong and for loving you so much. I’m sorry with all my ten fingers and toes. I’m sorry I can’t forget you.
— 10 fingers and 10 toes