The Boy With the Neon Yellow Backpack

I knew that when we finished things, 

something I knew that was coming, 

that I would miss you. 

But I don't just miss you. 

I am not just sad.

The place where you use to be feels so empty.

I had told you that time runs out, 

and I guess our time has now run out. 

But I promise, and I'm not one to make a promise, 

that I won't forget you.

I won't forget how I would catch you starting at me, 

just to be told, "You look so beautiful."

I won't forget how everyday after our classes, 

you'd go home and make nachos. 

I won't forget how I told you that we'd someday go visit your brother.

I won't forget your sadness.  

I won't forget that your favorite color was green, 

or how much you loved grape soda. 

I won't forget how much you love the clouds, 

or the crisp, gray rainy days. 

I won't forget your laugh, 

or the way you run your hand through your hair about a million times. 

And I can promise you, 

that I'll never stop searching for your neon yellow backpack.