you left rain clouds

as this dark night comes to consume me

i can’t think of anything more fitting

 

i once had enough words to fill years of space

your room in overflow as we spoke

and wept often, it seemed

maybe this is your way of weeping with me now

tears powerful enough to flood a town

yes, that’s you

 

but in the wake

i have nothing to say

death speaks a language unknown to me

and i don’t know how to talk to you when

you’ve turned your veins into clouds,

your skin into gray skies,

if all demise was as beautiful as you

suicide would be no surprise

 

i still think you were more beautiful with life in your veins

 

suffering suffocated you until pain was

the only thing you knew

and maybe we all sat by because we 

wanted to believe that you were okay and 

you would never leave

please

tell me where i went wrong,

after everything all you left for me was

a text and some yellow hearts 

the image of your body parts

in a casket half open 

dressed in the blue dress you once danced in

upon this earth, that you are now buried within 

and that will never be right to me 

the blissful fucking irony of your soul

being set free while your bones decompose

in a box

you left me here to answer the questions

of grief counselors and medical examiners and people who didn't give 

a

fuck

when you were alive but

now

you’re dead 

 

i wonder if you regret it

that reservoir and the four closed windows

the propane stove

some last echoes of life

i just want to know if you saw the sunrise

if your eyes beheld the light one final time

and if that was not enough

 

could you hear the airbags deploy? the time we were two tenths of a second from death at the hands of a gray pickup truck, or the time we got stuck in a ditch and your dad had to pull the car out while we screamed,

you used to cook me eggs while i sat on your counter and apologized for not helping and then got distracted talking again

you were the best friend i ever had and 

we used to go to this field for the sunrise, and once we lay there and contemplated the world upside down and how big the universe is, and on the last day of december you took me there to cry my lungs out in doubt 

of living

but i lived, 

you made sure of it, and i never thanked you enough

you said you wanted the quiet and 

i knew

at some point

and 

 

i let you