I still look

Under the bed

In the closet

By the sink

And think

When you were here

I felt dismayed

But the last thing you did

Was jumping-prayed

Onto my chest

And you said

Thank you Jesus

I thought you were dead

And then I fled

Unto the path

Where nothing mattered

As a psychopath

And I spent two weeks…

Thinking of you

Wishing to undo

What I didn’t do

And now I sit

Alone again

Where Noone knows

I can’t phone again

Unto the place

We always sat

Dead kotay friend

…

Dear heart attack

Dear desperate black

I’m sorry again

Frailty lacks conviction in justification for your love

I know the days were hard at the end and I miss your weaver soul. Touch my things and call me angry,

But I’d do anything to give you my 6 wall boundary.

Because maybe in the deepest nights

Where’d I’d roam in your dear fright,

I’ll find you sitting next to George,

Saying hey that guy once loved the lord.

Sadly I have no more tune,

So sorry lord what the fuck do you do dude

The bitter of the pills and tears,

Will never bring back those best years,

And I may fake until I make,

But sometimes wonder if I should have just gone in the lake

Because afterwards was cold as hell,

Suicidal but pretending well,

Just to make it out to see,

Believing he was there was this to me