A Final Plea
It was a cold and rainy Tuesday,
I sat, legs crossed staring at what was left of you.
The room smelt of death.
So much so, that the coffee I had brewed did nothing for the stench.
It was nauseating,
And it was in that moment, I realized that I was not strong enough to save you.
So In between the sounds of my heart breaking.
I made my final attempt …
Can’t you feel it?
Tearing away at you,
Like bark stripped from an old oak tree,
Like a child ripped from their mothers arms,
It’s rearranging your soul.
And you’ve let it!
Can’t you see it?
Creating a shell of what use to be,
Extinguishing the fire that lived in your eyes.
A fire that once rivaled the sun!
It was blown out like a match
So easily…
And you,
Are supplying the breath that fills its lungs.
Don’t you hear it?
Muting your voice.
Words that previously screamed at my heart
And demanded to be heard
Are now whispers…
Those that hide from my ears,
As if they are running for their life.
And you,
willingly submit to the silence.
I am not sure what is worse,
Watching you change from a blinding star
to a desperate black hole consuming all that dare to get too close.
Or knowing that you choose this life.
I have cried for you.
When you could not cry for yourself.
I have given you pieces of me to fill the holes that you created.
Pieces that I will never get back.
I know that I am not enough.
I will never be the reason for you to
Put It down
Or Step away
Yet I beg you
Please, Take my hand....
———————
It was a stifling Thursday morning
The air smelt of displaced dirt..
and I stood...
Staring at the pictures of what you used to be.
The happy, vibrant, beautiful you.
Tears don’t come.
I have already mourned this loss.
And those pieces of me I gave you.
I watch as they are lowered into the ground.
At least now I will know where to visit them....
-B-