Untitled (for bambi)

They say lips are there to soothe what teeth have done.

Every day is a reminder of your absence and how I’m learning to live a life without you in it.

Death is the only promise left unbroken, how bitter the taste of words unspoken.

Regret drips from my tongue as I choke on fermented words.

Your ears still hold the same bullet holes piercing the cartilage- and even as the blood drips down your neck you beg for someone to say something beautiful for once.

Because all you ever wanted was to feel a sense of belonging and beauty, protection and comfort.

You sat in a bakery and told a mutual friend about how it’s hard to sleep without the embrace of a man, and how every rib cage gives the impression of a home till you realize those prison bars are made up of bones.

You chose the easier, softer way out but it wasn’t easy for those you left behind.

We’re all plagued with the reality that we just couldn’t save you,

The overwhelming case of survivors guilt that seeps in every time we smile.

You not only took your life, but mine too.

I don’t know how to live without the shame that you don’t get to too.

I’ll drain the word forever from all my sentences as you cast your shadow the width of my shoulders, pulling me into the deep abyss you made a home in.

I never wanted to remember you through salt water tears.

I never wanted to remember you through keloid scars ((you once delicately stitched)) self inflicted symmetrically on my upper thigh.

I think what hurts the most isn’t the lack of goodbye, but the shift in time as the earth stood still and echoed your cries.

You were a model for pain, but only behind the scenes. You wore that fake happy mask for so long— it became another layer of skin.

It’s been a month since you took your life, and it’s getting easier to wake up without the realization cutting like a knife

But there’s not a day that my heart doesn’t find you tucked away in all the cracks and crevices.

And I know you’re finally at peace but I am not.

Not yet at least.

I know my memory of us is the only thing serving as a testament to the undeniable, irreplaceable bond we had— I always chose to remember the goodness you instilled even after you took back the reigns and ran on self-will.

I’ll keep reminding myself that all wounds need air to heal— that way I won’t suppress it.

Because I deserve to feel it.

I just know I do.

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

All you are now is a lingering memory in the form of cremation.

Let the fire burn away all your imperfections. Take flight from your body and watch the floodgates give way as you walk your stairway to heaven.

I find comfort in the fact that you’re not suffering anymore.

Your mangled heart can slow, as we begin a new tempo

But we’re always in perfect harmony.

This is not the end.

It’s just the beginning.

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