stikkurz are for sad people

You were the boy I always wanted to be.
*sounds like a good start to me. draws my attention*

I half-expected you to
live again *know how that is...*
rise up on floating clouds and brim prophecy and narration *good imagery*
but no such thing ever happened; *how do you know?*
and you laid there, fair and still, but that was all you did
when even in your ashes
you still touched the earth *vivid imagery. pretty*
(a raindrop to the ocean) *pretty*
and your existence was burned into our memories. *...perfect*

This storybook has come to a close
and I leave this stage to spring onto another and
I know in the morning, it will be hard to move without your presence. *very beautiful. storybook was a good word*

I mean, it’s not like I ever saw you then, *don't get this line*
but the mornings are now unbearable and my Bible
has been opened more times than you know,
the ink has receded into other pages from littlewaterdroplets *little water droplets? or did you mean to mush three words into one?*
forming and racing down my face and my eyes have not had a decent rest
in a week, with your blood on my hands I can’t even begin
to find solace in covers and the laughter of friends
is only temporary. *??? how is his blood on YOUR hands? It can't be your fault.*

Sometimes I try to forget you’re not here, but as soon as I open my eyes
I see baseball gloves that will never be worn again
except by the cold flames that flicker and dance and consume
every memory of you. *sweet.*