The smell of acrylics and vodka
Waft in the air.
It’s strong, too strong.
I can’t stand it. I can’t stand him.

Why can’t he be better?
Why isn’t he always there?

If only he could feel
what we felt.
If only he didn’t
always drink.

Why can’t he face his
problems like a real man?
Why is salvation to
him, his glass of whiskey?

Apparently I can’t
understand yet.
Apparently I am
still much too young.


He thinks I can’t
comprehend.
He doesn’t know
what I know.

I know that I
don’t know everything.
But he thinks that
I am just clueless.

Sometimes when I’m lonely
I wish that I could speak to him
and tell him how I felt.
I wish there were no secrets.
But then reality comes back to me.

I don’t know why
I wish he was better.
I don’t know why
I waste my time on him

but it’s not all about him, it’s about her…

I never thought how I’d feel
with out her around.
I never realized how much
I would miss her.

I can’t endure the pain.
I don’t know how
I can carry on without her.

I try my best
to be a good person.
To come out the
way she wanted me to.

I had hope,
it would be alright.
That things would
turn out different.

How could she be gone?
Gone forever?

I hoped
till the last second
Clearly
nothing could help her.

She was ready
to move on.
But I wasn’t,
I’m still not.