dear michael,
today I saw a boy that looked like you.
he had bright red hair that stuck out, and I remembered your bright red hair that stuck out and smiled.
I know it wasn't you, though because when you went missing we lived in sydney, so why would I see you in New York?
maybe I was hallucinating.
I tend to do that.
last week I dreamt that you were in my room, that you crawled though the window. and you were so close, I could feel you breathing and I swear to god that it was real. that you were real.
which is impossible , i know you're dead and I know I need to get over this because quite frankly I think I am going insane.
maybe I was already insane.
maybe we were all born insane, and we have to find something that makes us not so insane for a while. or more insane.
I don't know.
it's 4:33 am.
I should let you go.
I'm sorry
