I’m not the person you had hoped would stand there,
all proud and tall, with a glow about me,
as I held her  hand, so small and delicate,
in my own, and whispered, “I love you…”

But I was this sad broken down figure instead,
bent in two, like a broken marionette.
You had no words to say to me that night,
or any other that ever made it better,
and that’s when I realized. You were never
the right person for me, never the person to hold my hand.

You needed me to stand proud and don that
radiant smile you had become so accustomed too.
But I couldn’t do that, after my light was extinguished.
Not for you, and not for the world.

You whispered in my ear, the words I’d always
told you, before I did something stupid,
or ridiculously brave, as I viewed it then.
“You’re invincible.” You said to me.
And I almost believed it.

Until I looked at my body so empty,
and devoid of the life it had harbored.
And I shook my head, and gave you a broken
Imitation of the smile you’d always loved.
“Not anymore.” I  said as I pulled my hand away,
and looked into the face of eternity.