i remember how you'd smoke a cigarette down to the filter
long past where i'd go, or anyone else we knew

i can still picture you saying you were sad. that you were breaking.

and how i just nodded. said, I know.

your wrists were so fragile. your eyes deadened.
you heart was beating, but your bones were cold.
your body empty.

it is so strange to miss you still,
and yet, to not love you at all anymore.
to be relieved when another day without you goes by.

my friends are still angry at you, because i just can't be.
i wonder what yours say about me.

we really could've been something, you know?