Bre. I’m in the house that I last spoke to you on the phone in.
It was a Wednesday night. April 23, 2014, to be exact. The brightest night a couple of days before the ugliest day.
I locked myself in the bathroom in this house and talked to you on the phone for what seemed like an eternity.
Every word you spoke was hope and blue. We were going to your brother’s soccer game that weekend.
Everything has been white noise every since. Nothing will ever seem normal and everything with always be seen in a skewed light.
I call your phone at least once every night only to hear “The person you are trying to reach is not accepting calls at this time.”
Your mind was a beautiful thing. I will forever be trying to understand how you think. I want to know how you are.
These moments make me want to believe in heaven. I only want you to be resting, you had a long day today. I’ll wake you up in the morning, I swear I won’t let you have another restless night.
"I’ve got my heart strung up on clothing line through tenement windows in mid-July"