brooklyn,

would your mom love me now

the same way she did when we were twelve

choreographing Blurryface songs

in the backseat of her car?

or when we spent entire afternoons

lining up Littlest Pet Shops on your windowsill?

would she still love me now

even though i rarely dance or sing

or even laugh anymore

because none of it feels real?

brooklyn,

would you love me if you knew

i might not love you back

no matter how hard i want to?

i want to play minecraft with you,

counting the auto saves to keep the time

i’d like to find all the trees

into which we carved our secrets,

the trees we loved

i wish i was there when you dyed your hair

scrubbed the pink from the bathub

so your dad wouldn’t see

i wish i had more of you than a Polaroid

and all these memories that hurt

because they belong to a different version of me

and i think i just want you to know

that i think about you

always, and hopelessly