Cedar Box

I compiled all of (y)our memories
into a small cedar box.
The bracelet you gave me
for my fourteenth birthday --
the section of my dry-erase board
upon which you wrote,
that I would and could never erase,
the one photo we have together
from the dance [remember,
you fixed me to be the winner,
the princess.] I never felt so...
/angelic/...

My heart, in this box,
incessantly grieving, holding you close,
and closer, never having closure --
you're gone and dead,
no life is left [in the most beautiful
green eyes I've ever seen.]
And anyway, now you're gone [away]
you're simply ashes and dust
[and to dust we all return, right?]
No closure - no 'calling hours,'
nothing to solidify this feeling
and family sinking further into
the underground.

"Oh mercy me, god bless catastrophe,
there's no way in hell we'll ever live to
see through this so drive yourself insane
tonight, it's not that far away and I just
filled up your tank earlier today."