it's hard; not seeing him anymore. i try to remember everything i can, but it's never enough. i can feel the smallest of details, the little things, fading away. i'm reaching, grasping at silver strands of memories as they float away. i want them to come back; i never want to forget him, but he is so far away and he cannot kiss me from where he is. he can't kiss anybody from where he is. the last time i saw him, he looked tired but he smiled anyway; he touched his fingers to my mouth and told me to try my hardest to smile, too. i smiled only because he told me to, only because he made me happy enough for it to not feel stitched on with needles. he was stargazing and fingertips brushing in movies and a time bomb. he was ice cream and a fuse that was lit from the very first day. we were always counting down, there was a clock inside of us and we were just counting down the days. even when it reached zero we never believed that time had actually run out. when i got the phone call, i hung up as soon as i heard the doctor tell me, "i'm sorry," and i grabbed the photos of us on my bedroom wall and held them tight to my chest. pictures don't do him justice, but they are all i have except my tired mind. my mind is always running to find him; i am always trying to find him out there, somewhere. is he happy now? i pray that he is, i pray to a god i don't believe in that if he does one thing for me, it is that he is happy, now. on the worst of days i remember how it felt to kiss him and how he told me to smile. he told me it was okay and even though it never was and never will be, i smile because he told me to.
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the boys i've loved and the end of the world
Poetryfor the ones who used to love me, the ones who broke my heart, and the one who loves me now. and for you. for all of you. ~ catarine hancock's debut poetry collection. covering topics like love, heartbreak, feminism, growth, and more, these select...
