Your images echo off the walls of my mind and all I’m left with is a transparent ghost, a phantasm that will never capture the essence of who you were and what you meant to me. Your features come into focus, clearly and with a precision that only someone who spent years studying you could remember.

Like a blow to the stomach, I intake my breath quickly and sharply. A thousand painful pangs accompany your face now. A hundred thoughts cascade into my head and intertwine until I can’t just focus on one and the result is a jumbled mess of meaningless words that I wish could have saved you.

Like a gun to the ******* head, the bullets ricochet and pierce every part of who I am. The loneliness of your death, the emptiness you left behind. I have no idea how to even begin closing the gaping wound purging a ******* river from inside me.

Like catching water in a bottomless glass.

Your fragility comes into view, the softness of the lines etched into the corners of your honey stained eyes. I see the waves of your hair adhere to your face with the tears that just won’t stop coming. I watch you stumble in confusion and desperately claw your way to what you believe to be your savior. I hear you mutter something to a deaf world, your beauty contorted in pain. I see you take your last breath and watch as you pull the trigger, with the gun to both of our heads.