you'll always be the one.
although we never touched hands or met eyes,
i can still feel you even though you're not here anymore.
you're my stars,
my moon.
the reason why the earth spins.
but i still feel empty sometimes.
i can't feel you sometimes.
proving to the sky that this is for you gets tiring sometimes but that will never stop me.
you're my best friend.
there's letters in my closet written to your name.
notebooks filled with bundles of words that have captured your existence,
as if it could.
sketches and paintings hung up that are you,
they're trees in the morning,
the sky hugging the world,
flowers in hands,
they're all you.
you'll always be the one.
and until we meet again friend,
i love you.

‍   there is a rat in our room.

‍   we've always had a rat problem, but never in our room. in the kitchen; in the living room; in the backyard, yes. i don't know how it got here, but it did.

‍   i spend most time alone in the room.

‍   i guess i'm not really alone. the rat is 'with' me. it stays out of my way, mostly, but sometimes, if i hold my breath and lower whatever song's blasting off of spotify; i can hear it. it scampers around in the clothes closet. it runs across the floors. i've seen it once or twice.

‍   no one else in my family seems to care it's there.

‍   they know it is, but they haven't done anything about it. usually we'd set up mice traps but having one in the room is always a danger - we walk barefoot and throw our things around. the trap might end up snagging us before it lands the mouse.

‍   they call the rat 'friendly'.

‍   it's 'the friendly'. sometimes, i talk out loud to it, when i'm alone. i tell it about how i'm not ready for mom to leave. i tell it about how i'm scared for college. (i must be going crazy.) i was certain that the moment it would hear my voice; booming, at no one in particular; it would scuttle away.

‍   but, sometimes, if i hold my breath... i like to pretend i can hear it listening.

want to know all my secrets
I run the streets
in the pouring rain
june isn't what I expected

faced my seasonal depression
it's welcomed inside my room

now I dream every day
of a strange day
I can't remember

Those who seek love
Don't always find it.

The truth of life
Is a harsh reality to bear.

Those with the strongest emotions
Tend to keep them bottled in.

Those who want happiness
Are seldom able to find it.

That rare sleep in the dead of night
Only lasts for a short moment.

All the best things we have
Slip through our fingers like sand.

How do I know?
I have been there, so many times.

And those who need help the most
Are never able to find it.