I Want to Write a poem
I want to write a poem about
sitting on my bedroom floor
with all the letters you wrote me,
reading the one from our one-month
over and over
like maybe the ink will change
and tell me something new.
I want to write a poem about
how you rushed to put everything together—
a little bag with gifts,
notes on each one,
and how your sister wrote the card
because you were running out of time.
I want to write a poem about
that copy of Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda
you gave me that I never read.
I wanted to,
but I couldn’t.
It hurts too much.
I dont think paper should be that heavy.
I want to write a poem about
how you told me it wasn’t my fault.
That you didn’t even know why you left.
But I must’ve done something wrong.
Said something wrong.
Was it too much?
Or not enough?
I want to write a poem about how I keep wondering—
maybe if I had done things differently,
if I had held on a little tighter,
would there still be us?
I want to write a poem about
the sketchbook you gave me
that I couldn’t bring myself to draw in.
I look at the blank pages
and tell myself I’ll wait
until what I make is perfect.
Because anything less
doesn’t deserve to be in something
you gave me.
I want to write a poem about
how I wanted to burn BoJack into CDs
so you could watch it in your van.
Because it’s your favorite
and I couldn’t afford the real box set.
But I thought maybe
you wouldn’t mind the quality.
I want to write a poem
about how you said we were done
in a text
while I was at my sister’s musical.
I sat there, trying not to fall apart
while everyone around me clapped.
I don’t remember a single song,
just how it felt
reading those words.
I want to write a poem about
that time you said I smile like Garret Watts
and how I still think about it every day.
I want to write a poem about how
I wanted to draw you,
like you drew me so many times,
but being to scared to draw you imperfectly,
I instead sketched Velma,
because she doesn’t have to be perfect.
I want to write a poem about
how everything reminds me of you.
About how every time I listen to a song,
I wish that I could send it to you.
About how every vanilla fragrance
isn’t quite right without you to pair.
I want to write a poem about
the screenshot I have saved on my computer,
labeled with just your name,
with you saying,
“I love you too, Vance.”
I want to write a poem about
how I look at that picture every night,
and how I wish those words
could be written once more.
I want to write a poem about
every little thing I loved you for,
but my life is too short,
and the pages even shorter,
to capture your beauty.
I want to write a poem about you,
but I can’t quite get the words right.
And as I write what I want to say,
I realize maybe I already kinda did.
Because all I really have are these
half-finished thoughts,
and the things I never got to say
when I had the chance.
I miss you.
Written: 5/15/25
