Standing In Your Footsteps: A Poem

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Is your death something that needs to be forgiven?

I know myself to be able to jump straight to forgiveness

Or hold grudges for years, neither is a sane option.

You were free, you couldn’t think about us, otherwise

You wouldn’t have done it. I understand. You wouldn’t.

You couldn’t. It was your life and you got to choose.

I didn’t realise that you had to. Felt like you had to.

 

Death, for as long as life lasted, seemed the better alternative,

And you sat right next to me, knowing that, eating next to me,

Sending me voicemails, travelling, knowing that, your decision

Set in stone, in your body, moving, moving on until everything stopped,

Abruptly for us, phone off, messages are sent but not seen, I wrote you

That I loved you, nothing came back the old way, I sang happy birthday

To my brother buried beneath a tree and felt my stomach churn,

I love you so much, your decision burns within me, but made you feel free.

broken clay close up crack
Photo by Martins Krastins on Pexels.com

 

 

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