You never cried in a parking lot,
Reserved your tears for who you loved.
I was a little bitter, bad goodbyes.
I got all I had asked for.
No one bothered to tell me,
I asked for the wrong things.
July:
Alarm clocks didn't wake you.
They threaded the railroad tracks
you drove over on the way to hell.
August:
I learned that the world always turns.
When you can't keep up, it spins,
you can get dizzy or move on.
September:
I let my anger grow like vines.
I was afraid who you would be.
The first time I met you and your wilting leaves.
October:
I crumbled on the sidewalk too many times,
as the summer died around me,
the familiar feeling of home died too.
November:
There wasn't quite a word for it,
These bricks were consistent until now,
and the void screamed at me, it screamed at us.
December:
People always asked me questions,
Things I could never answer.
I realized I hadn't cracked a joke yet.
You had coffee for the first time in years.
There was something nervous and uncomfortable
in the way the dogs growled at your feet.
I thought about how I'd miss my teens,
until my birthday, and a week later,
wrote a eulogy in conversation hearts.
March:
It probably snowed every day,
you told me you'd help me when I needed it.
But I was beginning to think you were just being considerate.
April:
When it rained, the trees bloomed,
I started to feel like myself again,
always homesick for a feeling.
I always cried in parking lots.
Reserved my tears for who I loved.
and carrying all those goodbyes.