I'm writing you this poem because you always told me I didn't write enough poetry for you. Well here we are. In writing to you, because you said you'd always read it. But I look out into the crowd, and I don't see your stupid face anywhere. I can't see your face anywhere but my nightmares, and when I close my eyes. So this is just another letter never sent.
I always wondered why you always made me promise not to hurt myself.
It's because you did it all for me.
And I'm sorry for befriending all of your friends. Because really, they're the reason I can't get you out of my fucking mind.
PS, I hope you have a good Christmas.
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