When You're Not Here Tomorrow

THAT YOU'LL NEVER GET TO READ

When you're not here tomorrow,

I'll stay all day in bed,

looking through all the books

that you devoured or saved to be read.

I'll stare at your TBR pile,

and slowly my soul with bleed

at the revelation of all the modern wonders

that you'll never get to read. 

When you're not here tomorrow,

I'll write about you in pen,

immortalizing with long, black strokes

your life as my sister and friend.

Then I'll rip those pages to pieces

—destroying your final creed—

and I'll stare at all the scraps

that you'll never get to read.