On the day I died there was no bright light.
There was no voice to pull me to heaven.
There was only aching.
And a hole where my heart had been.
On the day I died there was a boy.
A boy I loved.
A boy that could never love me back.
Because he only saw her.
The girl who consumed his soul.
The girl who had been placed in the ground years ago.
Yet she stood in my place when he looked at me.
She was the one he truly saw.
I didn’t care though.
I wanted him to be happy.
I wanted to be a part of his happiness.
Even though he was killing me.
Even though I sank lower and lower with each kiss.
With each whisper.
Until I was drowning in a mixture of tears and blood.
On the day I died I said goodbye.
I said goodbye and fled.
I ran from the cause of my pain.
I watched as the light left from his eyes.
As he searched for something to say.
As our tears drowned each other.
And I heard the voice I loved so dearly.
Yell a name that wasn’t mine as I left.
Yell and beg her not to leave him again.
Not me but her.
On the day I died my world turned gray.
Gray and rainy.
And I watched the storm clouds get thicker
And the rain hit the pavement outside my door harder.
I watched as lightning struck.
Thunder became the only sound.
Thunder that yelled a name over and over.
Not mine or his but hers.
On the day I died I felt myself sink lower.
Until I was in my grave completely.
Until I was just a hollow shell.
A shell that was cursed to go on.
Cursed to be the one living with a hole in my chest.
A hole that left me opened and exposed to the world.
Leaving me more vulnerable than I thought imaginable.
On the day I died my body got colder.
My lips were ice.
Covered in a thin layer of frost.
Frost that held me safely.
That allowed me to protect myself.
Protect the stony heart that had hardened with time.
Frost was the beginning.
Until I was completely made of ice.
Ice so cold and fragile it frightened others.
Frightened them from talking or touching.
Chasing them away with the cold expressions.
The only expressions I knew now.
Only those expressions of pain and suffering.
The ever present frown on a frostbitten face.
Once rosy cheeks a sickening blue shade.
On the day I died I felt nothing but guilt.
An overwhelming sensation.
The feeling of leaving someone more broken.
Someone who had no one.
The need to run back and beg for forgiveness.
The ache of potentially killing someone.
Taking a life with your own.
On the day I lived I felt peace.
Peace and love that surrounded me wholly.
With someone who saw me.
Someone who whispered my name and not hers.
Someone whose soul was as beautiful as the body it dwelled in.
Someone who chased away the storms.
Made me warm again.
Melted the ice that encased me.
His lips acted as the sun.
Freeing me from the cold loneliness.
There was no more guilt.
No more hole where my heart sat.
I had a new heart.
A heart shared with someone who loved me.
Someone who made me happy.
Like I wanted him to be happy.
On the day I lived I felt something.
Something that was real.
Something that brought joy instead of hurt.
On the day I lived I found a reason to stay that way.