Blood Stained Voice Of Mist Fading Away

Dear Steve,
It's sad how many times, I've typed stuff in, then deleted it...I'll cut to the shit and just write. Its not as stressful as rhyming...

You know what I miss more then anything? Your voice. Your fucking voice. I remember how you wrote a poem about the way I smell but...

I miss something I knew was real.

Steve I miss how your voice would pretty much crack when you laugh. Rather you realize it or not, your voice got so high pitched when you laughed...

The way you used to tell me 'Its ok' and the way you called me 'Princess' and the way you'd fill that hole of nothingness where a family was supposed to be...

How when I asked any question, you'd know the answer, and you'd call me retarded and stupid though I knew you loved answering every question I managed to come up with and dear god I loved asking them...

I miss how many times, you’d pull me into this blissful moment of love and lust for only you. Your words would become gentle and you would whisper things of forever and marriage. Of the love we would hold and the places we would go. Of how beautiful I am and how I had no flaws what so ever...How you would set up these little breaks for romance and your flirts were more then flattering...

I miss how when you would explain, you just had this 'Steve' way of doing it. How you would say 'Well Camille...' in a 'Matter Of Fact' way when ever I tried to explain something myself...

I miss the way you'd just talk over all. Your tone was always gorgeous no matter the situation or emotion you were expressing. I know that’s a feminine word but Steve can I just say your voice was beautiful?

I'd always tell you how much I loved your voice and you'd always say it just sounds like everybody else’s...

But Steve you gotta understand, your voice is a powerful thing like it or not. I don’t know where I'm going with this Steve but your voice is the beauty of a blood stained sunset put into vocal patterns...

I'll be honest, I woke from a nightmare of your voice and though the nightmare was hellish and included me being chocked at some point, you voice was there. And though it was angry and hurt and just...shattered...it was amazing...it was like the death of a elegant animal...It hurt...it burned...but that voice I haven’t heard in months...it made me cry crystal shards of envy.

But all dreams end and I am back where I was laying when I went to sleep around 10:00 a clock with a cat basically smothering me... a 15 year old in nothing more then a baggy shirt and panties. Curled brown hair and tired red rimmed eyes. The mist of you faded once more just like the dream had...just like Jovan had...gone for so long...and only fading in out like radio frequencies...I sit here wondering if that was actually your voice...or if your actually real anymore or maybe your just a mist fading away...