I know we haven’t talked lately
And I know you’re mad at me.
I did back out on you,
when you needed me most,
And I haven’t been giving you what’s due.
Running and running and running
Like a dog chasing cars.
Somewhere along the way,
I just forgot to
You do remember how it was before all this,
Like That night when we sneaked onto that terrace, and
I stood at the edge marveling at the tiny pinpricks of light
That stood for every beating heart in the city
While you stayed glued to the floor,
Nodding with reluctant enthusiasm.
You never were good with heights.
How did you manage it, then?
And how we signed each other’s permission slips,
For we were our own Guardians,
You and Me, against the world.
How you would go on and on,
About snow, and dragons, and New York,
And stars, and diaries, and Spiderman, and
All I would do, is
I was wrong.
To turn away,
To be afraid,
Afraid to understand.
We promised to never drift apart,
And went ahead and did so anyway.
I filled this you-shaped hole you left in my ship
with things that don’t matter
and things that make me feel that way.
As you drifted away on your raft until all I could do,
As you screamed for help, was
I want to see you.
So I can shove that list in your face,
And drag you out of here into the wild, wild world.
We’ll write papers, and wrestle bulls,
And plan elaborate heists
after hours of studying GTAV,
And fight about peanut butter and Nutella all day,
And sit under the stars, mapping constellations,
(Though Orion is the only one we know.)
You’d made this list yourself, remember ?
“One day, I’m gonna come crashing through your window
And kidnap you from your mundane life, just you wait.
And then it’ll be just You and Me,
Riding our kangaroos into the sunset.”
You always did warn me,
Of how this life would consume
Every little good thing about me.
Maybe I should’ve just,
I know now.
I understand now.
You didn’t need someone to understand,
You didn’t need someone to know what it felt like,
Just someone to hold you
And tell you it’s going to be alright.
To tell you it’s not the end,
Of you, of your life, of the world, of us,
To tell you to trust your warrior of light, your patronus, your shield and your sword,
To tell you that the world would be a meaningless sphere of dirt without you gracing it,
To tell you,
that it’s okay,
that you’re not alone anymore.
I failed in these endeavors,
And I failed to
You’re going to be alright.
I know you can do it.
You have to do it.
They said no one survives that kind of a fall,
But you can, right?
Of course you can.
They tell me that it’s going to be hard to accept,
That it will take time,
But I’m done waiting.
These people here? They’re done waiting.
Your mom keeps looking at the albums,
Trying in vain to erase the image of your disfigured face.
Your dad sits at the dining table,
Making airplane noises in efforts to feed a chair.
And I just sit in my cubicle all day,
Waiting for a kangaroo.
The room stinks,
Of words unsaid,
And no one left, to