"Thank you."
Matched a crisp white shirt
as if she knew.
Even a red dress was dull next to her
absolutely beaming
illuminating the night with just her laugh
and one simple sentence
"You look gorgeous."
"Thank you."
The most important thank you I would ever give.
I flashed her a smile that did not attempt to compare,
that happily strayed from the limelight
to let hers take the stage
the way it naturally did
with a humble glow
though it was an outright shooting star
a comet that would impact.
My smile did not shine like hers,
but instead radiated gratitude
a contentedness only obtainable in her presence.
She gave me the best accessory to a prom dress
ever imagined.
“Thank you,”
the second time
was a heavyweight in my exhausted mouth
that I let drop to the floor.
Apologies for a loss that is not mine
but is the world’s
was not enough
for cars that still drove to slam their breaks
for people who still laughed to mourn
for the Earth to halt its rotation
to a complete stillness
as if the sky was not guilty for being so vivid
as if the sun was not ludicrous for shining so brightly
when they should have looked broken
waiting for her return
on a brilliant day
tarnished much too soon.
Every shadow that reflects against the hospital floor
Before materializing in front of the grand jury
as a hundred and so pounds of grief
is suddenly so heavy
breathing becomes a sport
resisting tears composed of, “This is all a nightmare,”
becomes reality.
Each body that steps foot into the room,
the longest walk of your life,
is another tally of unwanted confirmation
another sentence in the eulogy
another flower to be laid at her grave.
The only verdict the jury can pronounce
is to remember
and to forget at the same time.
“Thank you.”
Although this aching has made itself a home beneath my skin
although it has been 4 days and everyone’s faces have frozen in time
since the exact moment we heard
as if we left with the hospital chained to our backs
protruding from our veins that it runs cold through
although I wish you could live in places other than the purple bags beneath my eyes,
if I look hard enough,
I find you alive in my heart.
Thank you
For being the smiles on our faces,
the laughter deep in our chests
hidden like treasures buried in the depths of the sea.
Thank you
For being the thin crease of sunlight that melts through my blinds
when I am tucked away in the darkness of my bed.
Thank you
For being our continuation,
for letting those two words pour from us eternally
in hopes that a lifetime of “thank yous”
will fly the distance to your ears
so that you may echo with
“You’re welcome”
Loudly enough that the words may etch themselves permanently
into our hearts.
It has been exactly 2 weeks since the death of my friend, Katie Carter, who was a writer too. Thank you were the last words I ever said to her. I didn't want to post this for a while. I love you Katie. This is for you.