you were the only thing that made it all okay for me. all i had to do was think of you and of the future with you we planned and my whole world would feel okay. because it was going to be okay. it was all going to be okay. you were the light. the hope. the love. you’re my first love. you were the one that got away. the one that came back. and it’s all over. again. you’re gone. we’re done. clean break.
this has happened so fast i can’t hardly believe it still.
i hope to god you come back to me eventually. please.
i could just die right now.
I used to make their eyes burn
with how much I would write about you.
Now it’s a chore to pick up the pencil.
This is what you might call writer’s block,
but I just call it heartache.
The blank paper mocks me,
reminding me of the memories worth writing about.
But how can I write about things of which I have not done?
They tell me to write what I know,
but all I know is you
and no one wants to read about a ghost.
Because this is no horror story
that will keep you shaking in sheets.
This is a story of boy
who stole not only my words,
but also my heart
and left nothing for me.