i miss the undeniable belief i used to maintain that heaven was real
that heaven would be there whether i finally decided for sure that i didn't need to stick around any further or if i left when my time truly came
that i'd be able to kick it with my dad and elvis presley
meet some rad dead person and see if she lives up to the hype
like cleopatra or someone. don't ask me.
that i could watch on some sort of heaven home theater how the people i left behind were doing
if they were thinking about me, if they were sad i was gone, but still able to move on with their lives, because that's what i would want for them, i think
it bothers me that i don't really believe in any of that anymore
it's a strange, nostalgic genre of fiction to me, heaven is
a concept that's too abstract for me to entirely wrap my head around
i want to believe, but it all seems too fake
too much like what the white men in the church would create as an ideal way for little girls to oppress themselves and for people to refrain from doing actions that would be frowned upon
i do these actions without the fear i'll be denied from heaven
heaven can't be real to me, no matter how much despair comes to me when i think of how much i need it to be real

i want to live my life in an instagram filter
see everything in black and white
what people really mean and what they spew out
in order to seem more accessible and better than the rest of us
see everything in sepia tones
memories of my childhood surfacing whenever
i need a break from the stress and the broken-down-ness of life
see everything so the colors stand out
so i can remember what it's like to see color
and *feel

there's a difference between the meaning of
"i'm sad" and "i'm sad inside"
just being sad, externally, is fleeting
it's in response to a bad grade
a fight with someone close
it passes and it's okay to feel that way

being sad inside, eternally, doesn't leave
it's just there
you can feel it in your bones
a hollowness that you can't really explain to your friends
without sounding like a pretentious young adult novel character
it's been there for a while

i'm okay on the outside i guess
i have days where i feel alright
but i'm sad inside
and the sadness has become a part of me

i thought doing drugs would be
fun and a bit wacky and
romantic
i thought i would think of
creativity and awareness
instead of
the feeling of sand in my mouth
the feeling of being overtired
but unable to sleep
the concern for my friend
the paranoia of getting caught
of everyone knowing
of looking just a bit
not right
in the mirror

I miss you something terrible.
I can't go ten minutes without
thinking about you.
Painfully perusing the
Could've beens, would've beens,
should've beens.
You would have celebrated my
adulthood at my bat mitzvah.
You would have given me advice
about high school and
Navigating through love and the
weird puzzle of self identity.
You could have read my writing.
You could have appreciated the way
my taste has developed.

We could have talked horror movies:
Stephen King to Alfred Hitchcock
I think I could have talked to you
about anything.
The way I feel vastly alone and
empty
Like I'll never truly love someone.
Did you make me this way?
My family compares us a lot.
They don't compare you to anyone else.
Just me.

I miss you something terrible.
You'll never see me graduate high school.
Hell, you never saw me graduate
middle school.
You'll never help me pick out a
college
And then listen to me cry to you over
the phone when I'm scared I won't
make friends.
You'll never see me get married
To someone who I actually care
about.
My memories of you won't last
forever.

I miss you something terrible.

the way i cry myself to sleep
and blow my nose with used tissues
because it's just too much to get up
and even turn on the light

the way i sink into sadness
the second i hear about my father
or see something happy
and realize i'll never be that elated

how i love my friends
but feel grossly distant from them
at the same time
how i'm interested in the guy
until he reciprocates