may 6, 2020

I write out the memories, so I wont forget

I made a promise I don’t regret

Almost every day before she moved to Baltimore

She told me never to forget, and I promised and I swore

So when she passed away the promise took new meaning

For some time I failed when I was deeply grieving

But now I'm ready to be brave and share her story with the world

So if you read carefully I will share the story of a girl

I wish your hand was in mine so we could face this together

You were my best friend, we were better together

You kept making me promise never to forget you

It was an obsession that did not beset you

But every single time you asked, I promised on my life

And when you passed away, it twisted the knife

Some of me wished to forget, put the promise to rest

Most of me wanted to honor you, and your last wish

People kept hugging me, or offering to talk with me 

I always declined, I was not ready

I found resolve in writing what I was feeling

At first it was just jumbles of anguish and grieving

But eventually I started writing out her story

The story only I can tell, in her memory

People just moved on like it was no big deal

Like it never happened, like I will heal

But there is a crack running straight through my head

Everything I see or think reminds me that your dead

People around me have just sort of moved on

No longer pretending to be sorry that your gone

They no longer talk quietly behind my back

They no longer question my anxiety attacks

They stopped staring when I slam my head against the wall

They stopped talking when I curl up in a ball

Oh how I wish you were here, with your hand in mine

Together we could pretend everything is fine

Some days I feel you by my side

Right before you died, you wished to be a guardian 

And I feel your presence now, helping me write these words

She flashes me a smile, and disappears in a blur

You drop in on me sometimes,

Watching me do my homework or play with my pet snail

Whenever I write it's like she comes and watches

She feeds me the words, and I write the memories

I feel this warm flair in my chest whenever she appears

I used to think it was anxiety, now I know it means your here

She sits on my bed, then flops onto her back

She studies my dresses, pointing out her favorites

She sits next to me, whispers in my ear

Tells me that when I need her, she will be here