It doesn’t make sense that you’re gone.
Some days it feels like I could still reach you if I tried.
Your name is still in my phone
Did it used to be that easy?
You’ve always believed in me so completely.
I promised we’d watch Cinderella again;
Was I really so busy?
Was anything I had to do better than spending time with you?
You were the safest place I had.
I know you wouldn’t want me to cry but you’d still make it feel alright to do so.
This isn’t even a poem anymore I just miss you.
I don’t understand.
I would go to those fuckin creepy nursing homes that you loved so much just to sing with you again.
My thoughts keep colliding with the fact that you’re gone.
How is it possible?
No new memories to share.
No new stories to tell.
No phone calls to ask how I’m (and everyone else) is doing.
Your name is still in my phone.
How can you really be gone?
I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with the answer.