Your mom lets me in
With one glance
She couldn't care less

I tread upstairs
Gingerly
The carpet well worn
The hallways grey, arctic cold,
having not been lit for days

Pictures of you splatter the walls
The childlike version I never knew
It seems like just yesterday when
You'd talk about your own death

I enter your room,
swiftly close the door
My back against it

a box bursts open through me
murmurs
memories falling
That comfort, that snugness, that rest, that relaxation, that relief
and quiet

The blue-grey of outside looms in
through your window
The dusty blinds risen up
barely hanging

There's nothing to feel here
I realize
Or secretely always knew

Someone's rubbed my skin taut
Someone's comfort
hanging in the air
untouched
their mass of black heat
the covered in crevices
bleeding the despair that could fill
This sack of skin

Someone's comfort
I could never feel
no matter how much I tried

Your bed is messy, the covers
rumpled
The dark maroon of your comforter
And all of a sudden
I could fall from exhaustion

I walk towards your bed and notice a shirt
tossed to the corner
Flipping it right side out
I examine
the flimsy material
That old Strokes t-shirt
I smell it and lay back on the bed
Digging myself under your drafty covers

The smell of weed cascades on me
and I smile

at images of your fingers at your mouth,
your posture bent
and seeping a hidden desperation
The layers of that sunny day peel over
vivid and cathartic

My eyelids drip
and open
glimpsing the shabby guitars spotting your walls
and finally they close

and the day lays out:

Your shaggy hair falling
into the smoke,
The sweat above your upper lip
as you sucked
The perfect way you held the blunt
So distinct
And how you leaned into my view
and widened your eyes,
saying,"Woah...deja vu."

You grinned so wide
I had felt warmth release in me
It was stunning
You relaized something then,
something I hadn't understood till that pitiful day,
a month after

"You feel that too?" You said,
beaming to your ears

I felt the pace of my heart slow down
and I couldn't feel my fingers

"Wh-what?" I asked
Despite the fact that I could barely hear
Despite the fact that I knew I wouldn't be able
to hear you

You went on oblivious
I could tell by your mouth
You were talking a mile a minute
A revelation had just ocurred to you
I could see clearly by the green hue
in your eyes

I didn't mind

You went on
I only focused on the way you looked
The way I could feel your prescence
The way I could feel you were so real
that I didn't know how to react
or even if I wanted to

I smiled shakily back, taking the blunt from your still pale fingers,
and finishing it off

You watched me, steadily
And I felt my legs go numb

And so many things began to breathe and disperse

my fears
vacant
pleasant
cognizance flashing
blinking in time

my heartbeat
thrashing

~~~~~~~

There are places in the world
About a hundred connections
Lined in lime green radiant brilliance
Where people speak
And smile
In tongues

Warm hot wind
Moving in the trees
There aren't any drugs
Money
Sex
No distractions

~~~~~~~
You spoke in timeless slivers
In pink whispers
through feathery fringed guitar riffs
No one could see through your complex
Though I knew there were different courses
Different paths
So many ways
I knew
I could've saved who you were