As the blood
Slowly trickled
And danced down his skin,
I ran as quickly as I possibly could
To him.

He suffocated in my embrace
And drowned in my tears,
But still all of my love
Could him not repair.

I cradled him in my arms
For hours on end,
Explaining how much
I cared for him.

He shot down every word
And pushed me aside,
Claiming that nothing  I said
Would ever fill the hole inside.

A week later
I sat in the
Third pew, fourth seat
At his funeral,
And placed a dozen yellow roses
On his casket.