Falling. Reeling.
The loss
yawning void that you left for us
for us to lurch into gets
deep
er.roar in your bottle-corked feelings
that you refused to share
that caused us to yell
screaming
NO! NO! NO!
It’s not true!
It’s not real!
But unreality was your specialty.
Cruel in the way you chose
to leave this world
leave yourself in front of the morgue
we used to jest about our silent neighbors.
Now you are one of them.
Them:
The kind that do not return.
You are there with your mother. With Matt Hopper.
But you’re also here. You stand in my dreams
with your hands in your pockets
with your feet in your Berkinstocks
with a sad smirk on your face
that resembles an apology.
But your dream-sorries are ripped from me
as my alarm goes off --wake
--and I remember that you are still gone.
Your curiosity, perhaps?
Your last FU, world!
Your last run-in with unrequited love?
You, the black bird.
Do you know what you have done?
Was this a social experiment gone wrong?
Remember when you used to go to class in a suit
just to see what people would say to you?
Treat you differently? Reactions.
Take notes.
We loved you.
We all did.
You’ve left a Jesse-shaped hole in our hearts.
I watch the sun rise above clouds of blood red gold liquid...
I find no reason in my heart for leaving this beautiful world.
I feel the air in my lungs, feel the warmth of the sun as it graces my skin,
hear the birds begin their morning songs, praising the day.
But this isn't about me. Not anymore.
Why would you leave all this? All of us?
I see your pictures. I read your words.
I will you to come alive.
To undo what you have done.
But you have chosen to go.
I do not speak for just myself,
but for everyone who loved you (still loves you):
we will never let you go.
