Almost

Sometimes 

I think it'd be easier if you had died

Not because I want you dead,

Not because I hate you,

But because then maybe I'd have a reason.

I'd have a reason to avoid everyone you ever spoke to

I'd have a reason to be sad,

To run from it all.

But I don't.

You're not dead -

Though with the way things are

You might as well be.

I don't see you,

I don't talk to you,

I don't smile at you on the off chance I catch a glimpse of you.

It's like

Even though we live in the same town,

Go to the same school,

And have some of the same friends,

We live in different worlds.

Like a parallel universe only we know exists.

I can almost reach out and touch you again.

Almost.

But almost is never good enough.

Kind of like me.

Kind of like us.

Kind of like everything.

We just like to pretend things are perfect.

Really though,

Nothing is ever good enough.

It's all good, 

It's all passable,

But it's never good enough.

And that's when life becomes unfair;

When things like us

Are always unfinished,

When things like you

Are forced to become all too distant memories,

When things like me

Are forced to become invisible.