Outcast for life

I’m still waiting for the day,
the day where I can say your name freely,
without alcohol or drugs in my system,
without the stabbing pain I feel each time,
when I think of you,
when I want to talk about you,
when I simply just want to remember you.

I’m still waiting for the day where I can say that I’m ok,
that I got my closure,
I got my goodbye.
I want to be able to tell stories about you,
to show the world what an amazing person you were,
I want to be able to imagine what we would be like,
right now,
right in this moment.

I want to honor your memory,
your existence, your being,
I want to show others that they missed out,
I missed out,
we missed out
the whole world missed out.

Because believe me when I say that I have absolute faith
that you would be a fantastic human being
you would be the one people went to for advice,
the person that was always there,
the person that you could trust,
the person that would always have your back.

I want to be able to tell everybody about you,
I want to say your name,
I want you to be remembered.
And I suppose that’s selfish of me,
because maybe I simply just want someone else,
someone else to talk to about you,
to relive those memories,
to understand how I feel,
what I lost,
what the world lost.

And maybe I want this because I’m scared,
I’m scared that as my memories start fading,
as the details of your face start slipping away,
you’ll slip away from me.
I don’t want you to be just another gravestone,
I want you to be what you could’ve been,
what you are,
a force to be reckoned with.
A memory that will never be forgotten.