Dear Beautiful

Dear Beautiful,

It is nearing six years of your death anniversary, come October. Anniversary.. more like the day my life fell apart. You still cross my mind everyday, and not a inch of time goes by where I don’t feel your presence. The little gift’s you leave me. The random glimmer of that dime ever so slightly hitting my peripherals to let me know you are near. It’s always at the best times too, like you know I needed you in that very moment. I know you miss me too, we are still equal you know.

You were always the stronger one. Sticking up for me when I’d get picked on in school, winning fights for me behind my back. That time that chick though she was making a big statement in front of everyone, calling me a “dyke” cause of my short hair. “Yeah? So what, you got something against gays?” You’d say, grabbing my waist and kissing my cheek, I wasn’t even gay. Oh, but I was gay for you.You handled every situation with such ease, you were like my living guardian angel, and now your my.. well, real angel

I miss our routine meetings in the morning. Meeting in the alley to have our morning cigarette and smoke a bowl before the dreadful day of classes started. Or if one of us didn’t show up, we’d skip and go straight to each others house to see what was up. Then there was meeting up in the hallways before each class started for a quick hug and another smoke. I don’t think either of us even had phones at the time, we were to poor. But we just always knew where each other was, instinct I guess.

“I miss our meadow, where we use to roam. Where we use to laugh, and smile and dance and forget about all the darkness in the world. Where we were free to be ourselves, and love one another. I miss the  simplicity of growing up with you, never knowing what the future might hold, or why for that matter. I loved the way you spoke about the sea, and how big your heart would expand to the mere thought of it. You loved the way I spoke of the forest, cause it was the only place I could go to quiet the demons. Most of all, I miss the sound of your voice, the happiness it sprung from hearing the sound of mine. You don’t get another twin-flame, until we meet again my shining star.” (poem by me) You always encouraged me to write, you still encourage me to write, I’m still getting the gist of it. I was better at it when I was deeply depressed, odd how that works, eh. I’ve mainly wrote about you,

“I thought of you tonight,

tears streaming down my face,

trailing down my neck;

leaving that unsatisfying stickiness.

Not like i don’t every minute, of every day.

But i hadn't cried all year,

it started with one tear,

that started the many,

just from a memory.

I guess old habits never fade,

snorting away the gloominess of was,

or what could be.

dreaming of tomorrow but trying to figure out who you use to be.

its also the first time I've wrote, since you left earth that day.

it feels good.

to feel the pain and the sorrow

I've been pushing down for what feels like decades.

the suffering I’ve been hiding,

and endless facades.

I miss you,

but you already know that.”

You’ve always encouraged me to be the bigger person, to be bold and to be myself. You saved me from killing myself on multiple occasions, never spoke a word of it to anyone, but slapped me silly each time. I think that was you just gearing me up for when it was time to lose you, because we never knew who would go first. We were 16, NEITHER of should have even had those thoughts. But the world was cruel for girls like us, we weren't happy, but we were happy when we had each other. We weren't supposed to get that deep into the drug game. You weren't supposed to lose yourself and just die.

Boy, was I mad at you. You already know that though. I was mad you left me alone in this cruel world, to fend for myself. I tried to save you, and I hate myself for not being strong enough, not like you. You fought the drug battle for as long as you could. I know that. You were and always will be the strongest woman I know. Not enough paper could fill the void of what I can say about you. But I miss you so much, and I love you endlessly, Brieann.

Onen ki’wahi, my love.

Yours truly,

Pixie