The rain beats down on my already broken body,

As if to salt the wound you dug into my arm.

My hand as I held you in that moment,

I could feel the life in your body,

It was there, it was real,

A dying spark, 

The smoke of an empty candle,

The last pieces of my heart.

You moved with me,

And then you didn’t, 

There was nothing left.

I would love to say that it’s for the best,

Maybe it was for you,

But I can feel myself slipping away,

Becoming the ghost in my family’s walls I once feared so greatly,

Plugging my ears at night,

to drown out every sound

That crept towards me in the essence of death.

And you were right there with me,

I couldn’t close the door, you needed me,

And I needed you.

You would mend the wounds of that day,

And we would just be,

Exist with one another.

When I was younger I made myself a promise, 

Your end would be mine

 and neither would arrive.

That was always a future,

Far into the distance,

It would never be true.

But the unimaginable was not only imagined,

It was brought from the depths of darkness where it should have stayed,

If life were fair,

Which at this point is only a wish.

Why does all of this happen,

Why did they have to take you,

Because now the words I once bled,

I once passionately read,

Have dried into crimson dusts.

There is pain and suffering,

And there is hope for change,

But closing the door I once kept open

Is confirming that no one will come in,

Because not only are you gone,

Everyone is far gone 

From me.

I’m in my own dimension, 

Living with the thoughts I should have never said,

Leaving all I know behind, 

Figures of depression tangling in my head,

They poison my thoughts with corrosive ideas,

And the illusions whisper and spread,

Bringing me further away,

until I’m one of them.

I wonder if I will be the ghost,

The prayer,

The illusion, 

Next time.