You knew that you wanted to leave.
You didn’t know when.
I try to imagine your eyes, what they looked like
When you walked your last steps.
Did people see you? Did you look normal?
Did they know what you were going to do?
Who were these people who you walked amongst?
What did you look like? Walking down the street?
Taking the bus? In broad daylight with the darkest
Of thoughts? Concluded, one final step, a silent and
I still can’t believe that your body ended that way.
I cannot imagine what you looked like before we met again.
You shouldn’t have looked like that, died like that.
You were scared of the wind, I hope you were flying before you died.
I wish I could have shielded you.
Was this your destiny?
Was someone calling you home?
Were we never meant to grow old together?
Were we meant to lose each other this early? This brutally?
Could I have known? Could I have seen?
Could I have saved you? Anyone? At all?
Or did you save yourself in a way
That makes my heart skip a beat?