For Michael

You were the “p” in pterodactyl:

Silent, but important

You set things into your own stride

I couldn’t help but stare and notice you oddity

You rebellious

Unique

So silent yet so prominent thing

You stuck yourself in the beginning of conversations

Seen by all

Heard by none

But I heard your silence

The same way I hear it now

The same way I only hear silence now when I call your name.

 

That’s not what you want to be remembered as

You Are the ink stain on my rug I’ll never get cleaned

You Are  the unlocked doors of my estate

You are the long train ride home when I never had one

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741