DEM.

we weren’t close but i miss you all the same

You told us that we were too young now that night's closing in, and in the half light, we run. Lock us up safe and hide the key, but the night tears us loose. And in the half light— we’re free.

I loved him so much I can now despise who he’s become, his skull, a tomb robbed of fresh thought, his gems scraped off like scabs to decorate a destitute grapevine, then plucked and fed to the Noble he owes his blond hair. He told me things he’d never told anyone, then told me, “Remember me as you wish.” So I cling to the fleeting memory of his cologne, yet am haunted nonetheless by his last words.