Kerrie

They said the hole would go away They promised I’d be whole again They were wrong In their attempt to distinguish the hurt. Because, I still can’t look your mom in the face Without seeing your face embedded in her kind features. I can’t go downstairs In your house anymore To where your room Still sits, empty. I cant look at the garage door Because of what you did It looks at me though, Like a Mouth Waiting to Swallow me up. Your music room echoes with The soundlessness Of music, That will never be played. The silence is the most devastating noise. I dreamed of you the other night you were fine Okay. Happy. Smiling. Like i remember when you felt your best. Unlike the moments you never let people see. Which just made it all the Harder When I Woke Up And you were still gone. They said it’d get easier, They were wrong. Their intentions pure But their words False. Sometimes, I leave your key on my neck when I fall asleep. When I wake up in the morning I have a red ring where the chain Cut into my neck. Every Time. Its like this constant Ironic reminder. Is it a Cruel joke? by God? by the Universe? Maybe. Because I don’t take it off It gets, heavier sometimes, The weight of the grief and the pain and the memories. So many Memories My own personal cross to bear. Funny Me making allusions to god. You told me you didn’t believe in him That big man upstairs. We sat under the stairs on top of that hill. And you told me how what you do now is really all you have. How your life is yours to live. And you have to make it great. Because there is no next life to make better. You tried to kiss me after that. It didn’t happen. Like with so many girls before. I think thats the night we became best friends. I don’t think I’ll be whole. No matter how many times they tell me. Because You were a kid and I loved you.

This good bye tastes different It’s got more of a finality to it- a subtle hint of everything that has crashed down around us There’s no more room for fighting or crying No tearing down each other’s walls or even building them back up again so this good bye tastes different in that “I could’ve sworn this was gonna last but we still ended up here” kind of way this good bye is just you, me, and not enough reasons to stay

The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four people is suffering from a mental illness. Look at your 3 best friends. If they’re ok, then it’s you.

Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.

I want you to drunk text me. I want you to think about me. Please fucking think about me sometimes because the only thing I do is think about you