d e a r v i o l e t
happy birthday.
i went to Anne’s today and bought two vanilla cupcakes – your favourite. Anne asked me where you were. I couldn’t answer.
i sang a birthday song to no one, and blew out the f u c h s i a candles alone. Every year, you’d steal my share, and leave me with nothing but crumbs.
this year, I was left with two whole cupcakes, feeling emptier than ever.
it kills me that you couldn’t even celebrate that last birthday with me before leaving. kills me.
everyday I think about killing myself, just so that I could see you again in heaven.
but if I go, who will be left to remember you here?
c h a r l i e
YOU ARE READING
Dear Violet
Poetryd e a r v i o l e t all the letters i wrote that you'd never get, the words i penned that you never read; of all the shades of you.
