A gift, it's what your name says and you acted like you were my gift

I swear I felt special everytime we talked

even more special everytime you looked me in the eye, no one ever did that

it was different and I thought you were mine.

Ignoring the noise and attention and I swear I thought you were my gift, my package - you weren't and I haven't been the same ever since

I have searched for a replacement since you were redelivered and I've found none

I've probably been a bad boy, laughable to think the earth would gift me something so good.

Accepting that you can't be replaced is saddening. It was short and it still lingers in my head like you're still here.

Not poems, not letters, not texts, not even mails can fully express the grief I've had to deal with, like I lost a child, I think I lost my mind.

Maybe this will be the final pen broken on what isn't min

e, maybe.