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My mind is a mess,
I whispered to myself
Rushing along the breeze.
Reds, golds
lingering on the wind.
A chill colder than autumn air
swirled through my veins,
as I counted the days.

Pumping heart
like a tin soldier's march
in the hands of a child.
Tick, tock
You can make it, I cried.
I'll see you one last time,
I promised myself
with no regard to fate.

But it's not up to me,
the death that torments my soul.
Eighteen and on my own,
on my way into the world
where I am not safe.
A world without you?
I kept wondering how I'd live,
knowing he'd be gone.

I know,
you're still here,
living in my memories.
I know,
you'll always be here,
I won't let you leave me.

How selfish I've been,
refusing to let death in,
and only feeling pain.
That night,
I couldn't fall asleep
without drowning in my tears.
But he made it to morning,
at least until then.

The hole in my heart only grew,
letting in more pain than I could bear,
as I watched him die that day.
Don't worry,
I'm right here with you.

My vision distorted by endless tears,
I did not let him go.
I held his lifeless body close.

I know,
it's been three months.
It's almost Spring now.
I know,
he will always be loved,
ten years from now.

I know,
he loved me very much,
since we were children.
I know,
if he were next to me now,
he wouldn't let me cry like this.

When I see mothers and their babies
or loving boyfriends and brothers,
fathers and sons,
I can't help but tear up.
I want him in my arms,
in the crook where he fit
next to me when we slept.

That day when he died, that Sunday,
was the worst day of my life.
He didn't say anything,
he could only moan in pain,
but what was I to do?
I held him, wet him with tears.
He tried to say goodbye,
I know it.

I wasn't ready for him to leave.
He had carved a place in my heart.
I kissed him hard, his cold corpse,
so he could feel it in the next world.

I know,
you're still here,
living in my memories.
You'll always be here.
There's no reward for crying so much, but if there was, I'd win.

I miss him beyond words. I never loved someone as much as I loved him.
When you spent 17 years of your life with someone, and they die, it's a little hard to get up in the morning.
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Submitted on
March 2, 2010
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