"17 bullets in his body"

I'll never forget
those words
the doctor had said
while my man was on his death bed

17 bullets
17.

And it was the 17th of March

On our 17th anniversary
And I heard those words
At 1:07 am

17 bullets
and we were both 17 when we first laid eyes on each other
that day when you came over to our house with my brother
and it was the 17th of March

17.

they left my meds in my possession
last time that happened I almost died
should I take them tonight?
I could rest in piece with the angels in my dreams
or risk the chance the demons might come back
I can play this game
they are suppose to help
but to many could ****
some nights i wanna die
so maybe i will

but not tonight
im feeling to strong
the demons can knock on the neighbors door
im feeling to right

I fall deeply,
stumble,
crawl,
battle,
without your smile
I drown in the sea of tears
out of oxygen,
struggle,
no air,
words all over my head
without you by my side.

We grew up together
I pulled your hair, you kicked my shins...repeatedly....with vigour
I taught you to skateboard
You taught me to tip cows....make a rope swing and cheat at kiss chase
I taught you to roll cigarettes
You taught me to shoot whiskey, drop acid and roll joints
I took you to the fairground
You took me to an illegal rave and screamed RUN!!! when the police arrived
Years between us, you older, me younger
Yet here I am, the bad influence
While your **** smells of roses!
I showed you my writing
You gave me directions....here
I will always be grateful for that
I will always be grateful for you.

hope and expectation are at war
eternal conflict, reverberating endlessly
the struggle to know and the desire to want
seething within
tension breaks at the first word

marred with patience
quiet, silent, waiting
compassion resonates
kindness wanders silently
i am here

How can you feel that
and
     not
         want
                to
                  write?