i miss you with a hundred exclamation points

i wrote this poem at the beginning of july, as it was approaching my old best friend's birthday. i always get super emotional, and i want so desperately to reach out but i can't bring myself to. the only way i would be able to contact him would be through his mum, and i don't want to bother them. i just want to know that he's happy. he deserves to be happy. 

this poem was inspired by the song: good grief by leanna firestone. 

It’s your birthday in three days,

marked on my calendar in smudged sharpie

even though I haven’t seen you for 

one

two

five years now.

The heart beside your name shrinks

every year,

no longer swallowing you whole

the way it used to when we were children,

too much of my love taken away from you

for more present things.

I should message you on Wednesday,

at midnight,

stick my head out of my window,

whistle a bird call over to what 

used to be yours.

I should wait for your sleep-filled response,

for my phone to vibrate off the sill with

a string of party hat emojis,

red hearts,

a birthday cake.

I should text you until the early hours,

until you complain that your head hurts,

you’re tired,

I always keep you up too late - 

even though you could’ve left whenever you wanted to.

I should sleep for two hours, 

be outside your house at half-past eleven

to coo and pinch your cheek and say,

“The baby is growing old.”

I should do all of those things

but I won’t. 

I will type the message at midnight: 

Happy birthday, diddums,

I miss you with a hundred exclamation points.

I will flick through pictures of us

from seven years ago,

mud stained shirts and damp hair,

glittering eyes and sunkissed skin.

I will delete the message.

I will close the chat.

I will lean out of my window,

towards the garden that used to be yours,

and speak to the moon

who always preferred you to me,

and hope that she passes the message along.