Dear _____

Dear ****

I guess it's only right I start this prose with you

You're the why for everything I'm going through

You're the crying I let out when I ask what I'm supposed to do

And yell at the stars

The drywall I'm punching holes into

You're the reason every single calendar I circle 3

Cause that's the month we started seeing one another every week

And it's the month that you done called me and told me our futures bleak

And that's the same month I said I'm done with drinking

Cause I hit it too hard

I really hope you're proud of yourself