Your smile, infectious, now makes

Me despair, it breaks my heart anew

With every photograph that I see, there it is,

Your smile, serene, sincere, I felt it, I felt you,

You didn’t think that death would come as early,

As spontaneous as it did. I’m swallowing fire here.

 

I’m hearing her voice on the phone

And all she can do is sit and suffer,

Containing your scent in a plastic bag,

Sealing it, trying to contain you, in a plastic

Bag, is that what she has left? Of you? All of it?

All of you? In the fibres of a blanket that kept you warm,

Shoved into its own layers to contain, to warm your scent

Within its tightness, as if you never left, in her sense of smell,

You, whole and detached, the echo of your skin

Close to hers, again, how much is there until it dissolves too?

 

The world just annihilated itself within her.

And I’m listening to her and it hurts too much.

Nothing about this is remotely normal.

Your life was not supposed to end this way.

Nobody’s life should end this way.

You should be alive.

I want to shout it into the world.

You should be alive.

I miss you so much, it burns to see you smile.

silhouette photography of person standing outdoors
Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com

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