A Letter To Brandon

Dear Brandon,

Everything is crossing my head.
I want to tell people I am all right and the broken lights in the bathroom aren’t biting my brain.
But hey Universe, I can’t wake up anymore and look at myself in the mirror without being disappointed.
I feel like I’ve love and lost everyone, and he’s only my great friend.
I’ve never wanted to be any other color with him.
I’ve never need to hide my shoulder blades when he laughs with me.
He is the closest I will ever come to having a perfect friend.
Except he’s not perfect because he left, and I am in the closet (breathing heavily with my hands tied behind my heart, hoping to hide my wrists from themselves).


It is rainy here.
I want to bite something glorious, and earth built from the frozen dust.
Everything glows like it is night time and we are always looking at the moon.
Nothing is a white shade anymore, something has color, even I.
I want to kiss everything, I want to love everything!
But all these colors seem like mockery and I just want to bleed.
No one wants us to bleed, you know?
They want us to bottle up all this realization that we aren’t doing fine, they want us to feel pain inside, they want us to be people we aren’t.

But Brandon,
He's a man with a home sensation.
A place when I need to stretch my feet after I accidently burned my head in office all day long.
A place where I feel rich without extra diamond.
A place where I want to die with dignity.
I will love him when he's mine.
I will love him when he's not.
I will love him when he loves me.
I will love him when he doesn't.

I miss him.

Love,

Me.