Tell her in a safe place,
tell her over a nice cup of tea on a comfy couch,
tell her after a perfect day.
Tell her because I know I won't be able to.
Tell her that not everyone deserves the happiness she radiates every day.
Tell her that she tried.
Tell her that death's sweet embrace was as vindicating as we both assumed it would be,
tell her that Death's bony hands are that love we yearned for as kids.
Tell her the kick was swift, the rope was tight, the death was quick.
Tell her that cockroaches like me make the butterflies like her even prettier.
Tell her to forget my name, erase my face from her memory, delete my being from hers.
Tell her the late night conversations and quick pep talks were the reason my phone was charged,
tell her I envy my phone when it dies but you shouldn't.
Tell her I'm sorry,
tell her thank you
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Author:
Yeliw (
Offline) - Published: June 24th, 2017 14:57
- Comment from author about the poem: This is for the ones who couldn't bear to find the body
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments1
This made me cry. Recently a young man in my town, age 14, was found by his family hanging from a tree. He was much loved and left a gaping hole in many hearts. Love to you, Wiley.
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