The first to know
The last to cry.
The greatest smile
The worse way to die.
Love was shielded by fear
Cloaked to look like hate.
While I “loved” another, I pushed you away
And told you to find another to date.
All you wanted was me
And all I wanted was you.
But I was trapped and you were sicker
What could I really do?
I got in more trouble
You had seizures at night.
And I knew, just knew, I should’ve called you
But something just didn’t feel right.
You weren’t in class the next day
I thought you were coming later.
And then I was told the reality
You weren’t coming to class, not today…not ever.
I’m very silent when mourning
I hardly say a word.
And then I found the pen and the paper
It helps me feel heard.
It helps me cope with what I’ve done
It helps with all the yearning.
It has helped me cope with the idea of dying
And all the life lessons I’ve been learning.
The more I write about my very first love
The easier my pain becomes.
He loved me till the night he died
I wish it was all undone.
All the writing helps me let go
So I’ll be writing for a while.
And every time I write a poem
I think about his smile.
And so I write for you, my love
My epileptic friend.
I’ll write to help cope everyday
Until I see you again.