Lib...
I write poems about you.
I don't know if you're still alive, or if a family member is wiping away tears as they attend your funeral because I killed you metaphorically...
But I want you to know I'm so sorry. I know I'm out of second chances. I know I can't ever be your friend again. I'm too much of an overreactive bi.tch.
But that doesn't mean I can't hope.
I hope we can maybe make up. If I didn't kill you metaphorically. Like Augustus Waters. He loved metaphors but he died. I love metaphors too, as I have made many references to them.
Maybe I'll end up dying.
Maybe I'll see you in heaven.
I'm sorry.
