sometimes i'd like to believe you remember me as well as i do you

the night before you left, 
you asked me to play you something slow 
so i did 

and as we stared at the ceiling together in the dark 
you wanted me to sing for you 
so i did

and when my voice cracked, 
strains of timelines by motion city soundtrack dying out,
words sticking to the back of my teeth, 
you told me it was okay 
you would always be my sister,
sister i say even though our bloodlines are as far apart as they could be 

and i miss you more than i miss AQ, 
a dull resounding ache like molasses down my throat

i remember sleeping next to you that night
knowing you would be gone in the morning 
your bony knee shoved into the side of my thigh 
and arm slung around the curve of my stomach 
cold feet pressed to my calves 

and i slept curled towards you 
and you gripped my forearm so tight with your free hand 
that it left faint red marks 
and i begged you not to let go 
because maybe this way i wouldn't dream about you leaving

but you did anyway

and didn't comment on the sweater i was wearing 
as i watched you walk away at the airport 
was the same one you'd had for three years running at that point 

because there were holes you'd worn into the ends of the sleeves 
that you stuck your thumbs through occasionally 
but your arms are longer than mine and it doesn't fit quite right

but i wore it anyway

and i remember staring through the staticky darkness 
lying dormant in the room 
at your packed bags standing perfectly still next to the door 

and i remember thinking, 
so this is what dying feels like.

The End

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