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An Unedited Expression of Deep-Down Feelings
I keep all my memories in a shoebox 
 as if that will bring back 
 the better times in life, 
 but I know it won’t.  
 And I know you’re gone for good, 
 and I know how much 
 that sucks because I 
 deal with it everyday.  
 And I have this crazy void 
 and I try to fill it 
 by pretending to have something 
 to believe in but 
 I can’t play a note on this guitar 
 without thinking of you.  
 And thinking that if you were here, 
 someone would be naming 
 requests and we’d end up 
 screaming Johnny Hobo lyrics 
 until the earliest morning hours.  
 Just like we used to.  
 And I miss you being around 
 to tell me not to make stupid decisions 
 because these days it seems 
 every decision I make is a stupid one.  
 Nothing’s the same now, 
 even coffee, because 
 no one else thinks 
 the shapes that the cream makes 
 in that black brew 
 are even remotely interesting.  
 And I only accept weird looks from you.  
 I don’t know what makes anyone think 
 I care even a little bit about them 
 in comparison to you. 
  I don’t want to hear 
 the word “home” if 
 you’re not there and 
 I don’t want to hear anyone 
 talk about you in any way that doesn’t 
 sound like poetry 
 because everything you were, 
 everything you are is poetry.  
 You are the ink spilling 
 out of my pen all night, 
 every night.  You are 
 everything you deserve to be 
 and I hope you get 
 everything you deserve.  
 And on opposite ends of life we sit, 
 different drugs in our systems, 
 waiting for the day 
 far from now 
 when maybe, maybe we’ll meet again. 
 And maybe then, 
 we can do and be everything we used to.  
 Maybe then we can 
 sit up together late at night, 
 singing songs and strumming guitars.  
 Maybe then, we can drink coffee 
 and talk about all the things 
 we’re going to do one day, 
 all the places we’re going to go one day, 
 all the things we’re going to accomplish one day.  
 “I know you’ve been dealing with that awful feeling that we’re running out of time, and so have I.”  
 I’m slipping in and out of consciousness 
 and you’re not next to me to say 
 “you know, it’s all going to be okay 
 because tomorrow’s a new day 
 and when I got you and you got me, 
 well…we’ll never be alone.” 
 …So where’d you go?

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