I don't write shitty poetry anymore, but I've been thinking about writing a shitty poem for you.

There's a foot of fresh snow on the ground. I know you don't like the snow, but the mountains look incredible and I really think you'd love seeing and playing around in them, maybe snow tubing down one. 

I've been missing a lot of work lately. People still yell at me all of the time, and I just can't take it anymore. I've stopped working on my dissertation and I don't know anymore if I'm going to be able to finish it. I just cry, all the time. 

I miss our conversations. I miss watching movies with you. I miss your voice. We didn't know each other long, but for that time you really did make my world a better place. 

I sat in the shower last night until all the hot water ran out, letting the water hit my face and back. I planned for the first time in many years how I want to die. I decided I want to die by shooting myself in the heart. It seems poetic.