You and me. Me and you. Us, together. My mind drifted to the memory of us laying in the tall grass at the nearby park. Your worn out Levis and navy blue Hollister tee-shirt caress your body. Your emerald green eyes saw right through me; all of my deepest, darkest secrets were now yours too. Doodles from my faded black sharpie cover your pale skin. Your words tumble onto the ground, they bounce but land nowhere near my ears. I'm too distracted by the twinkle in your eye and by the tenderness of your lips to listen. Your words finally enter my eardrums, "I love you." Joy leaps into my soul and my heart speaks back, "I love you too." "I will never let you down, I will catch you when you fall, I will find you when you are lost and I will love you until my soul gets stolen by angels." Your words are golden. Just when I am about to reply your sweet lips lay a gentle kiss upon mine. All is right. You and me. Me and you. Us, together.




A drop of rain plummets onto my forehead bringing me back to reality. The tombstones around me cradle me in darkness and the fog suffocates my thoughts. Blaine Ian Johnson. The words pierce my skull and carve themselves into my brain. Two years. It's been two years since I found you hanging from the small hook on the ceiling of our room. Bruises encircled your neck and a slight rash tainted your skin. I still don't know why you did it. I miss you. After you committed suicide my world was a colorless picture, a whirlwind of loneliness. I rest my head against your tombstone. The coldness travels through my jaw and makes its way to my brain. I notice my reflection in a large puddle beside me. Swelling surrounds my eyes and my greasy hair allowed dirt and the last bit of happiness lingering inside of me to slip from its grasp. I can't take anymore, I scramble up from the grass and leave the blood-red roses on the granite tombstone. I make my way past all of the other graves, grey and depressing. I have to move on; I have to live my life. It's the end of you. The end of me. The end of us.