we've run out of everything.

Dear you,

I have a mix CD in my car
you helped me arrange and pick songs for
that I'll never be able to listen to again
without thinking about you.

I have a drawing
with your name on it
of a dog you said was your favorite
I was going to give to you but kept forgetting about
that now is just going to sit in my possession forever
with nowhere to go.

I have a poem
you wrote for me that made me cry
the first time I read it because it was so sweet
that I can never read again
because I'll burst into tears.

I have your phone number
as a contact in my phone
that I'll never call again
because no one will answer.

You're gone
and I have pieces of you still here
and I can't believe you're gone
and what do I do with these pieces you've left behind?

Where do I send them?

Because these pieces of you
were awfully important to who you are
and you're gone, you're just not here anymore
and you were only twenty
why are you gone,
you were only twenty.

Why do good people have shitty lives
and even shittier deaths?

I just don't understand
how can you be gone
when I've still got all these pieces of you here.

"Come back, you forgot these,"
is what my heart keeps repeating
over and over and over
and I don't get any response
because you're gone.

Sincerely,
xx
Blue