The battle tonight, every night, is that I lost someone, someone who got me through being a depressed teenager, someone who was a part of that in a positive way, but that is when he was a part of my life.
So dragging myself through the memories of him, also drags me through the memories of who I was. Though that is more emotive than rational. I feel who I was.
Listen now:
You are not the child who lives in fear of the morning, tomorrow you do not have to walk to the bus stop and have abuse yelled at you, you do not have to get on the bus and face the glances thrown at you by the girl who'll be punching you in the face on Thursday, there will be no one punching you in the face on Thursday, there will be no one to graffiti your work, there will be no one to steal your things as soon as you put them down on a desk, there will be no one hitting you over the head on Friday morning, there will be no one screaming you down, you do not have to fight to get your jacket back, because no one is going to steal your jacket, you do not have to run away from the places you want to be because there won't be people there treating you like you don't deserve to exist, there will be no one throwing rubbish at you on the bus, there will be no one throwing stones at you as you walk home from school, or leave the house to clear your head. There will be no one to bring you down and make you feel ashamed of existing.
You have a right to live, you have a right to life, you've endured this much.
You are allowed to live! Its hard to know that when again and again they told you you weren't, but they were wrong, and they are not here.
Friday 4 February 2011
Thursday 3 February 2011
Adam
Rarely have I found the words to say what I need, what I want, where I am.
So time for some straight talking.
Adam, I love you. Adam, I love you. If I could hold you in my arms tonight and never let go I would. You who shared life with me in a way that no one else did then. Ashes is all that remain, ashes, memories and tears.
You never knew, what I did, what I'd done. I fought to keep you alive and you never knew. I saw you, I saw your life falling, I could see the danger and I contrived to keep you away from the fools in my class who were dealing drugs. I saw the sadness you held from losing your best friends and I couldn't stand for it. I stood up to them and got them talking to you again, that night at the Suffolk Punch as I drank JD.
How was it that I was the only one still talking to you? How was it that I was the only one seeing you? Why did you come and sit with me all that time? Why did you stand with me as I waited for my buses? Was I just Harriet's little sister? No, I don't think it was that, or at least it wasn't just that.
You chose to spend that time with me, talking, I barely remember that life, I hardly remember what we talked of. I know I read you every poem. What did you see in me? What did you think of me?
As you treated me with more respect than anyone. You threw away your fags as you saw me coming because you knew I wouldn't hug you if you were smoking because of my asthma. Such a small gesture, but something no one else has ever done.
You'd be by the tree, I remember, I remembered this summer, six months ago I tried to walk across that space and broke down because I knew you wouldn't be standing there again. I used to walk that way just incase you were there to say hello to. Like you used to walk past my table in Starbucks just to see if I was there.
What did we have? What was it? A friendship made of random meetings. Where did you go? Your number was the first number on my phone, when you had a phone. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
I just want to looking into your eyes and said "I love you" because the school girl crush disappeared into a friendship and a respect that could only be called love, and I loved you, so deeply that I'm too scared to let go, I'm too scared to say goodbye.
You who took me as I was, who never minded what I looked like or what I wore, as you would throw your arms around me and I would drink deep of the smell that was your leather jacket impregnated with aftershave and cigarette smoke, that smell that was you. Burying my face in that jacket, your chin brushing against my forehead.
I want that moment again, I want you again. Now I've passed the age you were when you died, I can't believe that. It's almost three years and my heart still breaks because I just want the chance to say that I love you and to brush my lips against your cheek again.
I want you to know that I loved you because it was not a love that required a response, it was not a love that needed you to love me, it was offered freely, with no request or intention. I just wish that you'd known, maybe you did.
So time for some straight talking.
Adam, I love you. Adam, I love you. If I could hold you in my arms tonight and never let go I would. You who shared life with me in a way that no one else did then. Ashes is all that remain, ashes, memories and tears.
You never knew, what I did, what I'd done. I fought to keep you alive and you never knew. I saw you, I saw your life falling, I could see the danger and I contrived to keep you away from the fools in my class who were dealing drugs. I saw the sadness you held from losing your best friends and I couldn't stand for it. I stood up to them and got them talking to you again, that night at the Suffolk Punch as I drank JD.
How was it that I was the only one still talking to you? How was it that I was the only one seeing you? Why did you come and sit with me all that time? Why did you stand with me as I waited for my buses? Was I just Harriet's little sister? No, I don't think it was that, or at least it wasn't just that.
You chose to spend that time with me, talking, I barely remember that life, I hardly remember what we talked of. I know I read you every poem. What did you see in me? What did you think of me?
As you treated me with more respect than anyone. You threw away your fags as you saw me coming because you knew I wouldn't hug you if you were smoking because of my asthma. Such a small gesture, but something no one else has ever done.
You'd be by the tree, I remember, I remembered this summer, six months ago I tried to walk across that space and broke down because I knew you wouldn't be standing there again. I used to walk that way just incase you were there to say hello to. Like you used to walk past my table in Starbucks just to see if I was there.
What did we have? What was it? A friendship made of random meetings. Where did you go? Your number was the first number on my phone, when you had a phone. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.
I just want to looking into your eyes and said "I love you" because the school girl crush disappeared into a friendship and a respect that could only be called love, and I loved you, so deeply that I'm too scared to let go, I'm too scared to say goodbye.
You who took me as I was, who never minded what I looked like or what I wore, as you would throw your arms around me and I would drink deep of the smell that was your leather jacket impregnated with aftershave and cigarette smoke, that smell that was you. Burying my face in that jacket, your chin brushing against my forehead.
I want that moment again, I want you again. Now I've passed the age you were when you died, I can't believe that. It's almost three years and my heart still breaks because I just want the chance to say that I love you and to brush my lips against your cheek again.
I want you to know that I loved you because it was not a love that required a response, it was not a love that needed you to love me, it was offered freely, with no request or intention. I just wish that you'd known, maybe you did.
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