When I said it was you that made it good, I was lying, it
was me. I told you that I never lied to you and
I did but it is still true that you are the one person I
have lied to the least.
I mourn like you are
dead sometimes, I even
lied to a complete stranger the other day
and said you had died in a car crash, just
to have something to say about you other
than what I always say.
I hated that you felt so comfortable
sometimes, you looked like an
orangutan in sleeveless shirts.
I screamed at myself in the
supermarket for writing poems about you
still, reminding myself that everything
reminded me of you.
When we got really bad I would
go over to Cory's and ignore your
texts for hours until I was sure you were
I have a growing queue of things that would make you laugh.
I don't know where to put them.